Dear Strider
by Ravenclaw-Earl of Storybrooke
Summary: Newly-crowned King Eldarion finds a collection of letters from friends among his father's possessions, and he learns more about his father's life before he was King Elessar. A tale of family and friendship. If you enjoy this work, please follow, favorite, and review.
1. Elessar's Desk and Samwise

Dear Strider

Newly-crowned King Eldarion comes upon a collection of letters amongst his father's possessions.

Author's Note/Foreword: I really have not spent as much time as I would like to writing _Lord of the Rings_ stories (even though they are my favorite books), and part of my reason for abstaining is that there are so many amazing fanfics for that work on this site. I've been struggling for a long time to come up with something original. One of my favorite topics to explore is family relationships, which brings me to my main question: How completely do we know our parents? My own father was 28 years old when I was born, and there is so much you can do in 28 years. At 23, I am still learning a lot about my father's crazy adventures from before I was born (as he lived in a lot of places and knew a lot of people). Reflecting on this, my mind went to Eldarion, the son of Aragorn and Arwen. If there is any person in fiction who had a father who did a truly remarkable amount of living, it would be the son of Aragorn.

My story is set in the aftermath of Aragorn's death and Arwen's departure, in the early days of Eldarion's kingship over Gondor. I am hoping that those who read this story will enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thank you.

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MINAS TIRITH, YEAR 120 OF THE FOURTH AGE OF THE SUN

"I have asked the staff to wait to clear your father's chambers until you had a chance to go through and find what keepsakes you may," said the steward.

"Thank you, Beregond," Eldarion replied. "My father valued your service, and I hope you will continue in that good work." "

Beregond smiled. He was not an old man, but his hair was beginning to show flecks of silver. "It has been an honor for the men of my line to attend you, ever since your father spared my grandfather's life."

"If it had not been for your grandfather, Prince Faramir would have met with a terrible fate. All of Gondor will forever be in debt to him for his heroic actions."

Beregond bowed humbly and low before leaving the chamber. "I'll be outside if you need me, my king."

Eldarion looked around his father's office and chuckled. Elessar had once remarked at dinner that he could organize a kingdom or his chambers, but not both. Eldarion's sister, Gilriel, had remarked that the household staff could keep his office under control.

The household staff had certainly made an effort, but the king thwarted their efforts at every turn. Eldarion's mother said that it was impossible to break all of the king's ranger-like habits.

Eldarion sat down behind his father's polished desk. The desktop was a mess of royal documents, discarded quills, and crumbs of the Elvish waybread of which his father had been so fond.

Sitting at his father's desk made Elessar's death all the more real for Eldarion. His presence was everywhere in this room. He remembers the scolding voices of the royal advisors from the times that Elessar chose to play hide-and-seek and toy swords with his son rather than dealing with matters of state. He learned much later that his father would work late into the night to catch up on the reading and work that he put aside to spend time with his children.

Eldarion had absolutely idolized the man, and they had many moments together, but he still had so many questions about the man his father was before he was king. There was so much more that he had wished to ask him about himself. His father believed in living in the present, but he did allow for some stories.

He told the tale of his great love for Arwen Evenstar and how he finally won her hand.

He told tales of growing up with the elves in Rivendell under the watchful eye of Elrond, Eldarion's maternal grandfather.

He often spoke of the wisdom of Gandalf the wandering wizard.

And of course, Eldarion had heard of the adventures of the Fellowship of the Ring many times. How Aragorn son of Arathorn, Chieftain of the Dunedain had protected Frodo the hobbit and his friends on Amon Sul, how he, with Legolas and Gimli, had chased down the servants of Saruman for days in pursuit of Meriadoc and Peregrin, and how he led the Free Peoples to victory on Pelennor Fields.

But those deeds all seemed suited to King Elessar of the Reunited Kingdom.

Who was he before all of that?

Eldarion began opening desk drawers, and he found few remarkable items. There was a very weathered sketch that could only have been of his mother. The new king bowed his head in remembrance of his mother's departure three nights prior.

There was a curved hunting knife inscribed in elven-fashion. Eldarion did not often hunt, but such a thing was not to be discarded.

In the bottom drawer of the desk, there was a simple, wooden box. Eldarion lifted it onto the desktop and opened it. It contained a stack of folded papers that were quite different than those sprawled on the table. Gondorians, especially Gondorian nobility was fond of using crisp, white parchment and black ink for all writing. These pages were sheaves of brown parchment in green ink. It looked as though they belonged to an older world.

Eldarion took the first page from the top of the stack and began to read.

_31 July, 1455_

_Bag End, Hobbiton_

_Dear Strider,_

_Pippin just dropped in to give Rosie and me the news of the birth of your son, Eldarion. My congratulations to you and Arwen! After having thirteen children of our own, we wondered when you would start trying to catch up with us. _

_It seems like just yesterday that Rosie, Elanor, and I were staying with you in Minas Tirith. I can hardly believe we haven't seen each other in TWELVE YEARS! I can imagine you are very busy running your Reunited Kingdom, so it probably seems like twelve days for you. Time flies when you're busy. _

_I can only imagine what old Mr. Gandalf would say if he could see all of us now: you, me, Pippin, and Merry all family men, Gimli a great lord, and Legolas doing… whatever it is that Legolas does. I'm sure that he and Mr. Frodo would both be overjoyed at your happy news. _

_I had a letter from Bob recently saying that old Mr. Butterbur passed away. I wasn't sure if you had heard. After all, _The Prancing Pony_ was the place where we met, and I know it holds great significance for us all. It makes me laugh to think of how suspicious I was of that weather-beaten stranger smoking his pipe in the corner of the inn. Imagine if you had been a king when I said all of those silly things to you back then! I can only imagine what my Gaffer would have thought, rest his soul. _

_If you are ever staying in Annuminas, we would love to have you stop at Bag End. It isn't too far out of your way, and it would do my heart happy to see you filled with the joy of being a father. As I am writing this, Rosie said that you would probably prefer not to have dinner in a room where your head was constantly hitting the ceiling, so I'll amend my offer to a nice picnic on the front lawn. Mr. Bilbo was fond of those in his younger days. _

_Write me back if you get the chance. The older I get, the more I feel like reminiscing with my old friends. My children are tired of hearing my old stories, so maybe I can brighten them up with some of your perspective._

_Your old friend,_

_Sam_

There was no question in Eldarion's mind that "Sam" was Samwise Gamgee, Frodo's faithful companion on his quest to destroy the One Ring. He recognized some of the names and places in Sam's letter, but some were a mystery.

Butterbur?

_The Prancing Pony_?

It was amusing to think of King Elessar smoking in the corner of a pub.

And Strider… Eldarion remembered Merry and Pippin called his father by that name when they came to stay in Minas Tirith some years ago. Possibly a nickname from his days as a ranger in the wild?

Eldarion placed the drawing of Arwen and the hunting knife in the wooden box and left the king's chambers, signaling to Beregond that he was finished with his task.

He clutched the box to his chest. He had a lot of reading to do.

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Author's Note: I have plans to continue this story, so if you enjoyed what you read, please follow, favorite and review! Thank you for reading!


	2. Princess Gilriel and Samwise

Dear Strider, Chapter Two

Eldarion continues to read Sam's letters to Strider, sharing them with his sister, Gilriel.

Author's Note: George R. R. Martin famously asked about Aragorn's tax policy as king. I have a few thoughts on this matter, but I promise that I won't go full _Phantom Menace _in this chapter. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

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King Eldarion entered his chamber, placing the crown and the sceptre of Annuminas on their appointed cushions. It had been a long but rewarding day. He had met with the lords of Gondor and Arnor as well as emissaries from their allies in Rohan and Harad. They were anxious to ensure that Eldarion was going to continue with many of his father's methods of governance, especially where taxation was concerned.

His father had spent much of his reign repairing the infrastructure of both Arnor and Gondor. This had required generous funding for public works, and, as he often remarked to Arwen and his children, "We can't ask Gimli and his people to fix everything."

Elessar had implemented a fairly friendlier version of the late Steward Denethor's tax policy. Denethor firmly believed that everyone who lived in Gondor should pay for the privilege, resulting in a flat annual tax for all who lived in the kingdom. Those who were unable to pay were conscripted to aid in building, farming, and military matters to work off their debt.

Elessar had reformed Denethor's policy. He maintained (and slightly raised) the flat tax rate, but he ensured that his improvement plans employed more of the citizenry (which was especially beneficial in Arnor, which had largely been destroyed in ancient wars with Angmar). He offered monetary incentives for Gondorian families to resettle in the north and contribute to its improvement. He also employed a number of trustworthy citizens to liaise with the poor in the kingdom. Elessar was notable for his compassion, forgiving (or paying with funds from the crown) taxes for families whose coffers were low because of situations beyond their control. Those who worked with the poor were also required to help them find employment, and those who employed individuals in dire straits received tax credits or assistance from the crown. Elessar was devoted to developing what he referred to as a "compassionate economy."

Other rulers and high lords such as Eomer and Faramir were inspired by Elessar's example, and they implemented similar policies. The policies did much to aid the poor, and the tax credits involved in helping those less fortunate appealed to the rich. Charitable giving was very much in fashion during Elessar's reign, and the king led by example.

Eldarion assured those present that he intended to carry his father's compassionate economy into his own reign, and the assembled lords breathed a collective sigh of relief. It had been a wonderful chance to get acquainted with those with whom he would be sharing the burden of leadership.

A knock came from his chamber door.

"Come in," Eldarion commanded.

"Good evening, brother," Gilriel smiled warmly as she entered.

"Sister!" Eldarion embraced her.

Gilriel was a whole head shorter than her brother, and she greatly resembled Arwen.

"How is the Princess of Dol Amroth?" he asked.

"Quite well," said she. "Adrahil said that you spoke most nobly at the council."

"As did he," Eldarion replied. "Father always said that he had a lot of his great-grandfather Imrahil in him. It will be my pleasure to serve alongside him."

"Any word from Melian?"

Eldarion smirked. "Still traveling north. I don't think she's in Annuminas yet. She left Ohtar to sit the council in her stead."

Gilriel shrugged. "No doubt our sister is very busy with her duties as Regent of Arnor. Adrahil says Ohtar is easier to deal with than she is. The apple must have fallen far from the tree. Do you have the letters?"

Eldarion grinned and retrieved the wooden box from his desk. Gilriel appeared just as excited as he was.

"Can you believe that Samwise Gamgee actually wrote these?" the king asked.

Gilriel read the first letter quietly to herself. "The green ink is lovely. I wonder if that is standard in the Shire."

"Shall we read the second letter?" Eldarion asked.

"I will read it aloud," Gilriel said. "You may be king, but we both know who the better orator is."

_10 September, 1455_

_Bag End, Hobbiton_

_Dear Strider,_

_Rosie and I were very pleased to receive your letter. If more great kings made time to talk to old friends, the world might have a happier history. We are glad that Eldarion is happy and healthy, and we hope to get to see him someday. _

_The early months are the toughest. I can imagine that you and Arwen have excellent help with all of your stewards and nurses. When Elanor was born, it was just Rosie, Mr. Frodo, and I in Bag End. I don't think that Mr. Frodo ever wanted to be a parent himself, but he was so gentle and patient with Elanor. She was born about six months before the Grey Havens, and one of my greatest regrets is that he didn't get to watch her grow up. She's a great and respectable lady of the Shire now (as your wife knows), and Mr. Frodo did a lot more learning and reading than I ever did. He would have had a lot to teach her. _

_Speaking of Elanor, Pippin has appointed Fastred (her husband) as Warden of Westmarch, that pocket of land that you so generously granted us. Fastred is a respectable gentlehobbit, and I know that he and Elanor will guide Westmarch well. Their son, Elfstan (again, Elanor is quite the grand lady) just turned one year old. I still can't quite wrap my head around being a grandfather. It makes me wish that my Gaffer had been given more time to spend with my kids. _

_You asked about the challenges of being Mayor? I wouldn't call it a challenge. There really aren't many responsibilities. Here in the Shire, the heads of the old families mostly oversee their descendants, and that doesn't usually require any outsiders poking their noses into their affairs. I do try to visit a town a month, usually to visit the inns and talk to the other patrons. I get to spend a lot of time with Rosie and the kids, and Merry and Pippin and Fatty Bolger visit often. You've never met Fatty (Fredegar), but Mr. Frodo never would have escaped those Black Riders if it weren't for his help. _

_To answer your other question, I do still have Bill. He's getting awfully long in the tooth, so I don't often use him to pull the cart, but I go out and feed him oats and talk to him every day. I doubt there have been songs sung about him in Minas Tirith, but Bill really was the tenth member of our Fellowship, if only for a short while. _

_The next time you write, could you tell me a bit more about Lady Galadriel for my notes? Mr. Frodo got Mr. Bilbo to write down Lord Elrond's history for me before they left Rivendell, but I don't know much about her. Or, if she could spare the time, could Arwen give me some information? Lady Galadriel is her grandmother, after all. _

_Your old friend,_

_Sam_

Gilriel put the parchment down on the table next to her and smiled. "Bill?"

"Bill must have been the pony," Eldarion said. "We really should have a song about him."

"I'll get my minstrels in Dol Amroth to get to work on it," Gilriel said. "I bet it was refreshing for Father to have a plain-speaking friend like Sam."

"He didn't cling to formality," Eldarion replied. "He only followed it as his duty as king demanded."

"It's a shame that Melian doesn't follow his example," Gilriel smirked.

Eldarion frowned, but his eyes shone with laughter. "Melian can't help it. Mother named her after the queen of the greatest elvish city in the history of Middle-Earth. How else did she expect her to turn out?"

His sister shrugged. "I suppose she isn't so bad. She is our sister after all."

There was a knock on the door. "Come in!" Eldarion called.

Beregond the steward opened the door. "My king, Princess Gilriel, I have come to tell you that Prince Adrahil is expecting the two of you, as well as Lord Ohtar, for a family dessert."

Eldarion beamed at his sister. "I'm so glad you married a man with a sweet tooth."

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Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you feel so led, please follow, favorite, and review!


	3. The Ithilien Picnic and Legolas

Dear Strider, Chapter Three

Eldarion and his nephew Ohtar encounter Prince Elboron of Ithilien (the son of Faramir and Eowyn) and read a letter from Legolas.

Author's Note: Thank you for your kind responses to this story. I have been taking a bit of time to plan ahead and develop an ongoing plot thread for Eldarion and his sisters, and I am looking forward into moving further ahead of that. I have also been putting in some due diligence in terms of researching the timeline of the Fourth Age and the family trees of the heroes of the War of the Ring. I have invented and expanded a few descendants of the characters we are more familiar with, though not all of them will come into play right away. Eldarion (obviously), Melian, and Gilriel are the children of Aragorn and Arwen, and in this chapter, we encounter Elboron, the canonical son of Faramir and Eowyn. Ohtar is the son of Melian, elder daughter of Aragorn and Regent of Arnor. His father is important (and familiar) but we will delve into that in a future story. I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

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"I can hardly believe this city was ever in ruins," Ohtar remarked, gesturing back at the Dome of Stars.

"The reconstruction of Osgiliath is one of the greatest symbols of your grandfather's reign," Eldarion replied. "This country was in a terrible state of disrepair before him, and Arnor was in even worse shape."

Ohtar smiled grimly. "My mother is still overseeing many renovations in the north. She told me that her mission in life is to restore the splendor of the old kingdom, no matter how much blood, sweat, and tears are required."

"Annuminas is lucky to have her," Eldarion said diplomatically.

"She has been having a hard time accepting that both of her parents are gone," Ohtar explained. "Her work is a good distraction. And the people do love her. She is very firm, and she is not prone to being frivolous, but she is very kind to our people."

"Melian was always principled above all else," Eldarion explained. "Mother said that that came from her father, Elrond Halfelven."

"I always wished I could meet him," Ohtar said. "He must have known so much about our history."

Eldarion laughed. "He lived through most of our history. He is older than Gondor itself. Mother said that he sailed west to the Undying Lands with most of the other elves."

The two men walked through Osgiliath's massive market. Sights, smells, and sounds from all over the world greeted them. They passed traveling merchants from Harad who offered children rides on baby mumakil in addition to selling flavorful fruits. The Haradrim had taken advantage of Mordor's volcanic ash and had turned the country into a useful, agricultural center. As they reached the end of the pen that the Haradrim had set up, Eldarion saw two guardsmen in familiar liveries. A man of noble bearing stood between them, and all three of them were eagerly watching a young boy riding a baby oliphaunt.

"Elboron?" Eldarion called.

The noble man turned to face him. His hair was a dark grey and his face had noticeable laugh lines. "Eldarion!" The men embraced and laughed. "My grandson wanted to ride an oliphaunt, so here we are. What brings the king to Osgiliath?"

"Spending time with my nephew before he returns to Annuminas. Ohtar, you remember Prince Elboron of Ithilien?"

"Prince Elboron," Ohtar bowed respectfully.

"Lord Ohtar," Elboron offered a hand to shake. "Once again, I am sorry for the loss of your grandfather. If it weren't for him, neither of my parents would have lived to meet and marry."

"Indeed," Ohtar said. "We sing songs of your mother's bravery in the north. As you know, the Witch-King of Angmar is burned into the memory of many of those who live in the north. Two of our greatest cultural heroes are King Earnur of Gondor and Lady Eowyn of Rohan and Ithilien."

Elboron smiled broadly. "I grew up hearing of my mother's valor, though, in my lifetime, she was always quite gentle. Sometimes I wondered if she had ever been a warrior."

"Grandpa, did you see me?!"

Elboron turned to his grandson. "You rode wonderfully, Theodred! Say hello to the king!"

"Hi, Eldarion!" young Theodred shouted, hugging the king's legs.

Eldarion laughed. "Why, hello, Theodred! You're getting so tall!"

"Grandpa, can we have our picnic now?" Theodred asked, tugging on Elboron's sleeve.

"Would you gentlemen like to join us?" Elboron asked. "We have a great spot in the woods south of here. There will be plenty of food for all of us."

"I'm in favor," Ohtar said to Eldarion.

"A picnic it is," Eldarion declared.

* * *

Eldarion, Ohtar, and Elboron sat in a beautiful pavilion set up by Elboron's staff. The woods of Ithilien glowed with the spring sun, and many bird songs were heard in the trees. Theodred was playing hide-and-seek with the guardsmen. Beregond had joined them

"The rabbit stew was delicious," Ohtar said. "The herb blend was wonderful."

Elboron laughed heartily. "I thank you, though I don't know much about cooking myself. I certainly didn't have a personal hand in making it."

"Am I right in assuming that Barahir named Theodred for the son of King Theoden?" Ohtar asked.

"That's right," Elboron said. "This principality prospered because of the joint identities of my Gondorian father and my Rohirrim mother, so my son wanted to honor his heritage with his son's name."

"I've been focused a lot on family history lately," Eldarion said. "I recently discovered a collection of letters that my father had in his from the members of the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Oh, really?" Elboron asked. "You don't suppose that there are any from my father in the mix?"

"I haven't come across any yet," Eldarion said. "But my father and Prince Faramir saw each other often enough that I don't think they wrote much. Besides, Boromir was in the Fellowship, but Faramir was not."

"True," Elboron said, leaning back in his chair, "but he did directly assist Frodo, Samwise, Gandalf, Peregrin, and King Elessar, so he should be an honorary member, as should my mother with your father and Meriadoc."

Eldarion chuckled. Elboron has always been proud of his parents.

"I have some of the letters here if you two are interested in hearing one. Most of them are from Sam, but there are a few sprinkled in from other members of the Fellowship."

Ohtar, usually reserved, clapped his hands. "That would be great!"

"Let's hear it!" Elboron agreed.

Beregond stepped forward with the box of letters.

"Here is one from Legolas," Eldarion said.

"I know Legolas well," Elboron said. "He is fond of the woods of Ithilien, and he has given me great counsel since my father died. I haven't seen him since King Elessar's funeral. He told me that he and Gimli were going to the Glittering Caves for a while."

"Are they the only two left?" Ohtar asked.

"They are," Eldarion said. "Frodo, Sam, and Gandalf have all sailed for the Undying Lands, and Meriadoc and Peregrin are entombed in Rath Dinen."

"I remember them," Elboron said. "They came to visit us Emyn Arnen a few times before they died. They told the most remarkable stories."

"Can we hear the letter now?" Ohtar asked, earning him an annoyed glance from Elboron, who clearly wanted to elaborate on his memories of Meriadoc and Peregrin. He gave a reproachful nod to Eldarion.

"Here we go," Eldarion began.

_20 November, Year 34 F.A._

_Felegoth, Eryn Lasgalen_

_Mae g'ovannen, Aragorn,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I was very sorry to hear of the passing of Prince Imrahil. He was a valiant and noble man, and it was an honor to fight alongside him in the War of the Ring. I know your people will not forget his example anytime soon. _

_I have been doing some wandering east of here in Rhun, and you will be pleased to know that your diplomatic efforts have made a difference for the Easterlings. Most of the people have turned away from the worship of Morgoth now that Sauron is no longer an influence on the region. It is all-around more peaceful, and I am endeavoring to open more relations between the remaining elves and their people. It's amazing to think of how far we have come. _

_I have been thinking a lot about our time together as a Fellowship in Lothlorien during the days of our great undertaking, wishing that I had spent more time getting to know Boromir. Gimli and I spent a fair amount of time getting to know each other, and I was able to teach the hobbits quite a bit about my people, but I never spent time talking to Boromir as an individual. The next time I visit Emyn Arnen, I hope to have a long discussion with Faramir about his brother. _

_Do you ever hear from the hobbits? I have never actually been to the Shire. I should very much like to see it someday. I know that Sam and many of his people are gardeners, and I would love to see their work._

_N'i lu tol. _

_Legolas Thranduilion _

"Do you know if Legolas ever did talk to your father about Boromir?" Ohtar asked Elboron.

"I'm sure that he did," Elboron responded. "My father and Legolas spent many happy hours walking and talking together in our fair woodlands. Sometimes Gimli would accompany Legolas, and he would stay with my mother, telling her stories of the dwarves and their great wars and triumphs. Sitting with the two of them was how I learned many of the exploits of the Kings of Rohan."

"Your son Barahir clearly has an affinity for it if he named his son Theodred," Eldarion remarked.

"Oh, Barahir loves Rohan," Elboron said. "He regularly corresponds with my cousin Elfwine, the son of Eomer who rode with our fathers."

"My mother was well-acquainted with King Elfwine at one point in time," Ohtar said.

Eldarion and Elboron exchanged a significant glance. "Yes, she was," Eldarion said.

"Apparently, a King of Rohan was not a suitable match for the great Princess Melian," Elboron chuckled.

"My father, Lord Eradan, was a very noble man of the highest quality," Ohtar declared, sitting up very straight in his chair. Eldarion had never seen more of a resemblance between his sister and her son.

"I meant no disrespect, Ohtar," Elboron said. "I, as well as all of us in Ithilien, am comforted to know that Lady Melian is our staunch ally in Arnor."

Ohtar relaxed somewhat, but he still regarded Elboron with a cold expression.

"This has been a rare treat," Eldarion said, standing, "But Ohtar and I should begin making our way back to Minas Tirith. He is returning to the north tomorrow."

"I wish you safe travels, and I thank you for the honor of your company," Elboron said sheepishly.

Beregond signaled to Eldarion's nearby servants to bring up the horses.

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Author's Note: Thank you for reading this chapter! If you enjoyed it, please follow, favorite, and review!


	4. The Council Meeting and Pippin

Dear Strider, Chapter 4

Eldarion holds a rather harrowing first meeting of his council and reads a letter that Pippin wrote to his father.

Author's Note: Thank you for your kind reviews! I wanted to address MariaJulietBituin's request by adding a family tree to this chapter in order to clear up any confusion about who is descended from who. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter! (Update: The interface is not displaying the family tree as I originally designed it, so I will explain this in sentence form.)

Aragorn and Arwen are the parents of Eldarion, Melian, and Gilriel. Melian married Eradan son of Halbarad (who is now deceased) and had a son, Ohtar. Gilriel married Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth, the great-grandson of Prince Imrahil.

Faramir and Eowyn are the parents of Elboron, who married Beruthiel and had a son named Barahir. Barahir married Miriel of Dol Amroth and had a son named Theodred (who would be Faramir's great-grandson).

Beregond the Steward is the son of Bergil (elder son of Beregond from Return of the King).

* * *

The bells in the Tower of Ecthelion chimed as the first of King Eldarion's royal councils came to order.

"My king, there are a number of matters that we must attend to."

"No doubt, Lord Belecthor," Eldarion said from his seat at the end of the council table, Beregond to his right and Belecthor on his left.

While Beregond assisted and advised Eldarion throughout the day, Belecthor represented the crown's interests by overseeing different functions of the government and traveling to provinces of the kingdom. Though his position in the king's council was equal with Beregond's (and all members, for that matter), he claimed the title of "Lord" through his hereditary claim to Lebennin, one of the southern fiefdoms of Gondor, which he ruled from his seat at Pelargir. His grandfather had fought alongside then-Aragorn, the Grey Company, and the Dead Men of Dunharrow when Pelargir had been liberated from the Corsairs of Umbar during the War of the Ring, and he recounted that part of his heritage proudly. His green eyes glittered as he addressed Eldarion.

"I bring many words of affirmation and support from my people in Lebennin. Our humble city will never forget the debt that we owe your father and all who follow in his bloodline."

"The kindness and loyalty of the people of Lebennin does not go unnoticed," Eldarion replied.

"And yet," Beregond began, "I feel there will be more to this statement of Lord Belecthor's than mere affection." He crossed his arms in his seat.

Belecthor regarded his colleague coolly. It was no secret that the two men did not see eye to eye. "If Beregond will allow me to continue organically rather than treating me like a captured Easterling-" he paused to raise the angle of his nose by a few degrees and turn his head more directly to Eldarion "-your bloodline is what I am here to discuss-"

Belecthor was interrupted by a fit of sputtering coughing as Targon, Chief Loremaster of Gondor, leaned forward in his seat. "We all know of your boundless ambition, Lord Belecthor," he said in a wheezing, raspy voice, "but your claim is naught compared with the Heir of Elendil." He wagged a wizened, chastising finger in the air.

Belecthor narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils. "My king, if I could be spared from these slanderous and irritating interruptions-"

Eldarion raised his hands, silencing the muttering around the table. "Let Lord Belecthor finish."

"Thank you," Belecthor said indignantly, shooting quick, infuriated glances at Beregond and Targon. "My king, King Elessar's recent passing naturally calls the succession of the throne to mind, and your majesty has yet to choose a suitable bride."

Eldarion's face remained impassive, as he suppressed a groan. _I thought it would be longer before we got here_, he thought. "A suitable bride?"

"Yes," Belecthor pressed on. "The union of a king and a queen is important to our people. After all, we don't to find ourselves in another predicament as we did with King Earnur."

"Earnur was at war for most of his reign," Eldarion countered. "While our history tells us that he had little interest in passing on his lineage, he was king during a dire, darker period. My father made peace with our enemies. And let us not forget that he did not marry my mother until he was eighty-seven years old and already king. I wasn't born until almost forty years afterwards."

"If you don't mind my saying so, my king," Belecthor continued in a more stilted tone, "You are in your eighty-sixth year, nearly as old as King Elessar was when he married Queen Evenstar. There are many eligible ladies throughout the Reunited Kingdom who would make wonderful queens. Why, my own sister, Firiel-"

Beregond let out an audible sigh. "Are we here to discuss the kingdom, or are we here to serve Lord Belecthor's self-interest?"

"Hear, hear," said Prince Elboron from further down the table.

"Enough!" Eldarion said in a commanding tone. "I will say this, and then we will move onto other matters. The Line of Elendil is secure. I have two sisters. Lady Melian is a highly capable regent in Arnor and Princess Gilriel and Prince Adrahil have done well in Dol Amroth. Lady Melian has a son who is a fine, honorable, young man. The Line is secure, moreso than it was when my father ascended to the throne. I will concern myself with who I choose to marry and when I will do it. And I would remind the members of this council that we are here to serve the tens of thousands of people who live in our borders, not to bicker and jockey for position. Beregond, next item on the agenda if you please."

* * *

Eldarion rubbed his temples as he sat in a comfortable chair in the king's private chamber. Elboron sat in the chair next to him as Beregond leaned against the wall holding a flagon of wine.

"Sit down, Beregond," Eldarion said.

"I would rather stand to attend you, my king," Beregond said.

"You don't need to attend me right now," Eldarion countered. "Just sit and talk with us. You're a member of my council, not a servant."

Beregond pulled up a nearby chair to seat himself. "To be a member of the council is to be a servant."

Eldarion let out a mirthless laugh. "Try telling that to Belecthor," he said darkly.

"Belecthor never would have tried anything like that with your father," Elboron said. "He's determined to climb. I've heard tell that he thinks Lebennin should be another principality like Dol Amroth or Ithilien, and you don't want too many of those pesky princes running around."

"Are you offering yourself up for a demotion?" Eldarion smirked.

"Not if I can avoid it," Elboron laughed. "Your brother-in-law Adrahil is a great and noble leader of his people. I might not be humble and quiet and gracious like our fathers, but I like to think that my people and I know how to have a good time." As if to prove his point, he offered his goblet to Beregond to refill with wine. "Now, Beregond here is a man who takes his duties seriously, but he's much better company than Belecthor."

Beregond chuckled. "You honor me, sir."

Elboron laughed, pointing towards the steward. "You see? Charming and pleasant to the last! If I said something like that to Belecthor, the conversation would devolve into ten different stories about what good company he is, incorporating tales of the lovely Firiel so that he can win the hand of the king for his sister."

Eldarion finally broke into a wide smile. "You just prefer Beregond because he allows you to be the one dominating the conversation."

Elboron laughed heartily. "Why not? I'm good at it, aren't I? You know, I could hold my own in conversation when Meriadoc and Peregrin came to visit Emyn Arnen."

"Those hobbits loved to talk," Eldarion reminisced. "We had a lot of dinners here in Minas Tirith where they would argue over whose account of one of their stories was more accurate. By the time they were living out the rest of their days with Father, their stories had become so fantastic that there was no way that any of them could have been accurate. Melian was much younger and more gullible, and Father had a hard time explaining to her that Merry did not singlehandedly take down a column of trolls at the Battle of the Morannon."

Elboron and Beregond both bellowed with laughter.

"He told me that story too," Elboron said. "Mother would just shake her head and smile."

"I found a letter from Pippin today," Eldarion said. "It's quite characteristic."

"I think we could all use the distraction," Beregond said.

Eldarion crossed the room and retrieved the wooden box of letters from his desk, opening it and removing the first sheet of parchment. He began:

_4 August, 1462_

_Great Smials, Tuckborough_

_Dear Strider,_

_I hope that ruling the world is going well. It can't be as exciting as all of the things that are going on here in the Shire! _

_It will not surprise you to learn that our Sam has just been elected Mayor for the sixth time! No signs of him slowing down anytime soon, bless him, not that the job requires much steam. Sam tends his garden and eats with Rosie and his children and grandchildren. He's quite the respectable hobbit, unlike Merry and I. Between my advancing age (sixty-nine this year, if you can believe it) and my oh-so-lordly position as Thain of the Shire, you would think I would be slowing down, but we spend a lot of time riding around the country, visiting the inns, dancing and singing with the young folk, and keeping old Sam lively. Merry says it's old Treebeard's ent draught. Last week, we put one of Diamond's dresses on the scarecrow in his garden. Diamond was not thrilled, but through our argument, we reached an interesting point of discussion: Is the Thain in charge of the Shire, or is it the Mayor? Not that the Shire ever requires much ordering. I told her it was me for the sake of the argument, but I'm not sure now if that's really the case. _

_One of your Dunedain rangers traveled all the way from Evendim to tell me that you and Arwen have been blessed with another daughter this winter. Congratulations, and may I say, the messenger was quite courteous. We had him stay for supper, and he didn't show any signs of discomfort even though the chair we had for him could generously be described as small. _

_Speaking of children, our Faramir is engaged to be married! To Sam and Rosie's Goldilocks, no less! If Mayor of the Shire was a hereditary title, my son's heir would be both Thain and Mayor! Alas, I don't think it will be so. If Sam ever retires, I think that his son Frodo has an eye to the position. He is well-named for my dear cousin. He reads, explores, makes maps, wanders beyond the borders… Frodo and Bilbo would have loved it! _

_I am sending a bottle of wine along with this letter for Eldarion. I know he's only seven years old, but it's a new bottle of wine from a farm in Oatbarton. It needs to age, just like him. Someday, when he's king, he'll need it, and he'll thank his old friend Peregrin. _

_Don't forget that you have a home in Annuminas too. Your old friends up north would be happy to see you there. Songs and stories are one thing, but how many people are there left who really knew Frodo, Bilbo, Gandalf, Boromir, Elrond, Theoden… I've told my Faramir all about them, and I hope you will do the same as your children, because if we pass their stories on, they will never truly be gone. _

_Come visit, or Merry and I just might turn up on your doorstep, and I promise we won't behave._

_Your friend,_

_Pippin Took_

"I do miss the old fellow," Elboron smiled. "Did you ever find the wine?"

"I didn't know there was wine," Eldarion chuckled.

"To the cellars then," Beregond declared, standing up as the others followed suit.

* * *

After an hour-long search through the royal wine cellar, Eldarion had come across a small, green bottle covered in dust. He hollered for Elboron and Beregond to join him. Beregond took out a small handkerchief to dust off the bottle, which revealed a label reading _Northcotton Farm Vineyards_. Elboron withdrew a corkscrew that he always kept on his person, _Because of course he does_, Eldarion thought with a smile.

The three men took turns drinking from the beautifully aged bottle of wine, each toasting, "To Pippin!"

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. If so, please follow, favorite, and review!


	5. Dol Amroth and Gimli

Dear Strider, Chapter Five

Eldarion visits Adrahil and Gilriel in Dol Amroth, and they read a note that Gimli wrote to Aragorn.

Author's Note: Thank you for all of the kind reviews on this story! Thank you to margie-me for looking out for my grammatical and sentence errors. I am an English teacher myself, but as I tell my students, I am far from perfect myself, and there are errors that slip through my proofreading. I appreciate the support. I hope you are enjoying this take on the early reign of Eldarion, and I thank you for reading this latest chapter!

* * *

People lined the road to wave and cheer as the king rode into the city of Dol Amroth, which was quite considerate, seeing as it was a cloudy, windy day. Eldarion smelled the salt of the sea as he smiled and waved to the friendly citizens. Beregond rode to his right, and the rest of his retinue followed behind them.

"This trip is just what I need, Beregond," Eldarion said. "Fresh air, friendly people, the seaside. This will be a week to remember."

"Prince Adrahil is ahead," Beregond said. "And look who is with him."

Eldarion turned his attention from the crowds to the road ahead. Prince Adrahil sat smiling broadly atop a white horse clad in the armor of the Swan Knights of Dol Amroth. On a brown horse next to him sat none other than Lord Belecthor, dressed in fine, red silks and smirking at the jollification surrounding him.

"And here I thought this would be fun," Eldarion muttered to his steward, not breaking his smile.

"My king!" Prince Adrahil called once Eldarion and Beregond were in earshot.

"Well met, Adrahil!" Eldarion beamed genially.

"Sorry to surprise you, my king," Belecthor said loudly. "I was in the neighborhood, and your brother-in-law was kind enough to invite me to the festivities."

Adrahil gave Eldarion a fixed smile that made it clear that he had not had a choice. Eldarion assuaged him with a nearly imperceptible shrug.

"It's a delight to find you here as well, Belecthor," Eldarion said magnanimously. "I do hope you'll join us for luncheon." He felt Beregond's eyes burning into him.

Belecthor's green eyes glittered. "I am here on business, but who could resist an invitation from the king?"

"Shall we, gentlemen?" Adrahil asked, gesturing to the city gate. The streets were also lined with people, and children threw flower petals from high windows, giving the autumnal day the appearance of an early snow.

Eldarion spurred his horse so that he could ride next to his brother-in-law, leaving Beregond and Belecthor to ride behind them.

"I'm so sorry about this," Adrahil said. "Gilriel and I wanted to get you away from council melodrama, but he is extremely persistent. The sister is here too." "

"He's determined that I marry her," Eldarion muttered. "I can't imagine him being in the family. Anyway, I thought I sent him to assess Umbar to calculate what aid they would need after the recent storms."

"He is set to depart for Umbar from our ports tomorrow morning. Knowing Belecthor, he made his travel plans after he learned of your trip."

Two yards behind, Belecthor was enthusiastically smiling and waving to the cheering citizens. Beregond smiled stoically next to him.

"Come now, Beregond!" Belecthor said loudly. "Enjoy something for once in your life!"

Beregond smirked. "I enjoy plenty of things in my life. I just don't make a show of them like some of us do."

Belecthor smiled all the more fervently. "Our ancestors lived in Gondor for generations without a king, and we rarely ever had cause for celebration. It caused them to be dour and humorless. It's a new age, friend. King Elessar brought our realm over a century of light and joy and plenty."

"And King Eldarion will continue that for many years," Beregond said.

"I have no doubt of that," Belecthor said. "We need to keep our king surrounded with the right people to help him in that mission."

"I completely agree," Beregond said coldly.

Belecthor's garish smile faded somewhat. "Ambition is not always a bad thing, Beregond. I how little you all must think of me. I do want to be close to the king. For Pelargir. For Lebennin. The higher I'm placed, the more I can help the people of this country. You must understand that."

Beregond turned his head and looked at his companion in his rich robes and expensive saddle. "I help other people because it's the right thing to do, not because of my position. My grandfather was willing to sacrifice his life to do his duty, and so King Elessar rewarded him with a position of honor. I try to live up to Grandfather Beregond's example every day."

Belecthor's smile began to intensify again as pressed the attack. "Your grandfather was a valiant and noble man. He was willing to sacrifice his life for the son of Denethor. When you serve the powerful, you are bound to be rewarded. Make no mistake- your grandfather had ambition. He would not have risen to the rank of Citadel Guard if he had none."

Beregond was going to respond, but the cheering intensified as the procession reached the keep. Looking ahead, he saw Princess Gilriel standing at the foot of the stairs in a glimmering, white gown with a glowing smile. She was surrounded by many grand ladies of Dol Amroth.

"My king!" she curtseyed to Eldarion as he dismounted and kissed her on the hand.

"Well met, sister," he said.

Adrahil stepped forward, embracing his wife and kissing her on the cheek. "Darling, you remember Beregond, the king's personal steward?"

"Your Highness," Beregond bowed.

"Welcome, Beregond! We are pleased to have you. And Lord Belecthor, of course!"

"Much obliged, Your Highness," Belecthor gave a low, sweeping bow.

"Please, everyone," Gilriel announced. "Join us in the main hall for luncheon." She took Adrahil by the hand and led the procession inside.

* * *

Lunch had been spectacular. Gilriel had chosen a menu to reflect the rich variety of seafood that Dol Amroth was famous for. Crabs and shrimp and fried haddock were abundant, and the white wine flowed generously. As was Adrahil's custom, the meal was followed by an informal, private dessert in his luxurious sitting room. There were grapes, apples, and a cake that was made to resemble a swan.

Adrahil, Gilriel, and Beregond were all able to surround and protect the king during lunch, but they knew that Belecthor would make up for it at the dessert, during which his sister, Lady Firiel, would be joining them.

"She's actually not that bad," Gilriel said as Adrahil topped off her goblet of wine.

"How much did Belecthor pay you to say that?" Eldarion asked, causing Beregond to chuckle.

"No price would be too great for Belecthor if it meant he could move up in the world," Adrahil said. "I really wish you had chosen someone else to be the crown's traveling representative."

"Can you imagine him staying in Minas Tirith all the time?" Beregond asked, shuddering. He poured Eldarion another goblet of wine and stood to attend him.

"My brother just thought he would inflict him on the rest of us who live in Gondor," Gilriel laughed.

Eldarion chuckled. "Belecthor is actually very effective when it comes to doing his job. He just requires a lot of fanfare."

"The people do love him," Adrahil said. "Especially in Lebennin. He told me this morning that he believes that now that the Reunited Kingdom is secure and prosperous, we should turn our attentions to improving the arts and recreation."

The master of Adrahil's household entered. "Lord Belecthor and Lady Firiel," he announced. Belecthor entered with his sister. Eldarion was surprised to see that Lady Firiel looked very different from her brother. She was a whole head shorter with braided red hair and soft blue eyes. Whereas Belecthor was always drawn up to his full height, Firiel appeared to be very relaxed in bearing.

"My king, Your Highnesses, may I present my younger sister, the Lady Firiel of Lebennin, the pride and joy of Pelargir."

Firiel blushed. "I am honored to be here. Princess Gilriel, I hope that my brother did not put you to any extra trouble on our behalf. It is a rather bad habit of his."

Beregond exchanged a subtle look of wonder with Eldarion.

"Not at all, my dear," Gilriel rose and took Firiel by the hand, sitting her down on the sofa next to her. (Belecthor awkwardly jostled to an armchair two feet away.) "I hope your journey was a pleasant one."

"Not especially, Your Highness," Firiel said, shooting a glare at her brother. "But my brother did insist."

Belecthor smiled mechanically. "But it was worth it for such a lovely party, was it not?"

"I suppose," Firiel glowered at him once again. "King Eldarion, I owe you a debt of gratitude."

"I can't imagine why," Eldarion said, inclining his head towards her.

"Thanks to the position you granted my brother, he is hardly home. You have no idea how much more peaceful our household is without him."

Beregond let out an uncharacteristic burst of laughter, followed shortly by Adrahil. Eldarion gave them both an admonishing look.

Belecthor pretended to laugh to save face. "Sister, what will they all think of us?"

"I think you're the only one of us who cares about the answer to that question, with respect," she quickly looked to the king.

"Belecthor, our sister Melian often felt the same way," Eldarion said empathetically. "We drove her so insane that she never leaves the north anymore."

"Maybe I should join her in Annuminas," Firiel said.

"Maybe you should," muttered Belecthor, flashing his eyes at Firiel.

"So you are the king," Firiel gestured to Eldarion, "and I'm already acquainted with Prince Adrahil and Princess Gilriel. I don't believe I have had the pleasure of meeting this gentleman. Lord-?"

"Beregond," Beregond said. "I'm not a lord. Just the king's steward."

Belecthor smirked.

"Oh yes, I have heard of you," Firiel said. "Belecthor has a lot to say about you, but he never mentioned that you were so handsome."

Belecthor looked like he might faint. Eldarion's jaw dropped. Beregond turned as red as Belecthor's robes.

"Brother, there was something you wanted to share with us today?" Gilriel asked Eldarion, not missing a beat. "For those who are not aware, my brother has been reading letters written to our father from members of the Fellowship of the Ring. When you wrote, you said that you had quite the letter to share with us today."

Eldarion was not enthusiastic about Belecthor being present for a reading, as it could lead to future, unwanted discussions, but for his steward's sake, he obliged.

"This is from Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves," Eldarion prefaced. "He is one of the two members of the Fellowship remaining in Middle-Earth."

_1 October, Year 42 F.A. _

_Aglarond_

_Aragorn,_

_Well met, and my best to you and Arwen. I hope that gate of yours is holding up and that your kingdom is prospering as well as mine! _

_In my old age, I have been making stone carvings in my spare time. The elf gave me the idea. He whittles little toys for Sam's grandchildren and sending them to The Shire. He leaves a mess of sawdust wherever he goes. The dwarves of Aglarond pretend to sneeze whenever they see him coming. It almost makes me feel like we're even for Haldir blindfolding us in Lothlorien. _

_Anyway, the marble carving in the package is meant to be a likeness of the Lady Galadriel, your wife's grandmother. Even though she passed over the sea a long time ago, it is important that our younger generations learn about the great people in our history, and few could be as great as the Lady. Give it to your children, put it on your desk, make it an heirloom of your kingdom, do what you want with it. Just make sure that the children know our stories. _

_I recently visited Eomer and Lothiriel at Edoras. It isn't far from here, as you know. Elfwine is a great prince. We told him stories of Theoden, Helm's Deep, the fall of Saruman and Isengard, and the Battle of Pelennor Fields. The boy was enraptured. I don't have children, and at this age, I don't expect to, but I have been spending more time with the young dwarves. Someday, you, the hobbits, and I will all be dead (as if we shouldn't have been at the Hornburg or the Black Gate). Hold onto this carving and pass on what you know. _

_On that happy note… Take care,_

_Gimli, son of Gloin_

_P.S.: The elf is reading over my shoulder as I'm writing this note. He feels guilty that he won't die like the rest of us. I told him that if he feels so bad about it, why doesn't he let us sail with him when he goes? Now he's being silent and cryptic. Typical. -G_

"Do you still have the carving?" Belecthor asked.

"I remember Father showing it to us," Gilriel said. "But I don't have it. Do you, Eldarion?"

"It was on his desk not two weeks before he died," Eldarion said. "I don't suppose he gave it to Melian?"

"Perhaps he did," Gilriel asked. "It's your turn to write to her, Eldarion."

"I'll ask about it in my next letter," Eldarion said.

Belecthor stood. "My friends, this has been lovely, but I must prepare for my voyage to Umbar, and my sister is expected home in Pelargir."

"Thank you for the pleasure of your company," Gilriel said.

"The pleasure was all mine," Firiel said, winking at Beregond.

Adrahil began leading them to the door. Eldarion noticed that Beregond's eyes turned to Firiel and lingered for a moment before he realized that Eldarion was watching him and blushed, yet again.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter! If so, please follow, favorite, and review!


	6. The Lord of Umbar and Merry

Dear Strider, Chapter Six

Eldarion gathers his court to celebrate the birthday of Frodo Baggins, inspired by a letter of Merry's to make it a holiday. Gimilkhor, Lord of Umbar, causes quite a stir in the throne room.

Author's Note: Thank you to all who have been reading this story. I'm hoping to continue to make an update roughly once a week as it keeps going. Please enjoy the latest chapter!

* * *

Eldarion sat on the high throne of the tower hall clad in his royal robes. Beregond sat in the steward's chair at the foot of the throne taking notes on the proceedings with a quill.

He had called together his council and the high lords of Gondor and Arnor. Melian had been invited to attend, but she wrote that she could not spare herself due to her restoration of some of the derelict keeps of Evendim.

In her stead, she sent Ohtar, who was deep in discussion with the aged Chief Loremaster, Targon, who was eager to hear of the discoveries that the Arnorians were making as they went through rubble and debris in the old keeps.

Nearby, Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth and Prince Elboron of Emyn Arnen laid siege to the refreshments and could be heard laughing loudly together.

Lord Belecthor was presiding over the other southern lords from Lamedon, Anfalas, and Andrast and their retinues

The delegation from Umbar stood near the back of the throne room. King Elessar had made peace across the south following the War of the Ring, but Umbar, because of its history of rebellion and piracy and continued standoffishness towards the rest of the kingdom, retained its reputation as the black sheep of the south.

The chief lord of Umbar was Gimilkhor, who stood over six feet tall and rippled with muscle. His men were not quite as tall as him, but had similar bearings. Their grim faces ensured that Lord Belecthor kept as far of a distance from them as possible.

"My lords," Eldarion projected from atop his throne. The citadel guards who flanked his position pounded their spears on the polished, marble floor in unison, quieting the room. "My lords, I am pleased to have you all here in Minas Tirith today, September twenty-second. It is my wish to begin a new tradition in the Reunited Kingdom, for it was on this day, one-hundred sixty-three years ago that Frodo Baggins, the hobbit responsible for Downfall of the Dark Lord Sauron, was born in the Shire, far to the north. It is my wish that the people of our kingdom remember Frodo and his companions and the struggles they endured so that we might recall how our world almost fell into darkness."

Elboron nodded and smiled at the idea, and Adrahil followed suit. Ohtar exchanged an encouraging look with Targon. Belecthor smiled broadly, his bright, green eyes no doubt picturing himself animatedly recounting the tale of the Fellowship of the Ring to a large crowd in Pelargir. Gimilkhor smirked and muttered something to the Umbaran on his right.

"My king," Belecthor was naturally the first to speak, "I can think of no better way to preserve the memory of Frodo Baggins, King Elessar, and the others."

"The fact that Belecthor can only remember the names of two members of the Fellowship means that we do need to learn our history," Elboron called from the table. Adrahil, Targon, and some of the Gondorian lords laughed.

Belecthor rounded on Elboron. "I do know the members of the Fellowship."

"Alright, then name them," Adrahil said.

Beregond tried to catch Eldarion's eye to stop these proceedings, but there was no way the king was going to resist the chance to hear Belecthor butcher the names of the Fellowship in front of the court.

Belecthor gave Eldarion a nearly imperceptible pleading look, but he found that the king was staring at him expectantly.

"There's King Elessar and Frodo, Mithrandir, Boromir son of Denethor, Samwell-"

"Samwise!" Elboron bellowed.

"It's practically the same thing!" Belecthor snapped. "Peregrin, Meriadoc… Gimli the dwarf…" his voice trailed off.

"And who?" Adrahil asked.

Belecthor looked at his fine, leather shoes. "The elf…" he muttered.

The court erupted in laughter. Even Ohtar's shoulders shook.

Eldarion raised a hand and the unruly lords quieted themselves. "Lord Belecthor was able to recite more of the names than most of our citizens here in Minas Tirith. It goes to show that we are not so different from our people. We need reminding, which is why Chief Loremaster Targon has prepared this litany for all of you to bring back to your people."

Targon tottered forward with a neat scroll. "The common litany for our people shall be this:

**On this day, in the year 2968 of the Third Age of the Sun, Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo was born in the northern Shire. It was he who, at fifty years of age, would take the One Ring of the Dark Lord Sauron from his homeland to the fires of Mount Doom, destroying the Dark Lord forever. **

**He and his hobbit companions, Samwise Gamgee, son of Hamfast, Meriadoc Brandybuck, son of Saradoc, and Peregrin Took, son of Paladin, accompanied him from the Shire as they were pursued by the Nazgul, servants of the Dark Lord who wielded the Nine Rings. **

**The hobbits were joined by a Dunedain ranger from the north, Aragorn son of Arathorn, Heir of Elendil, came to their aid, helping them to reach the elven valley of Imladris.**

**There, Elrond Halfelven sent nine companions to walk to the Land of Mordor and destroy the ring. Frodo, Samwise, Meriadoc, Peregrin, and Aragorn were joined by four more companions. They were the valiant man Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, the nimble elf Legolas, son of Thranduil, King of the Elves of Mirkwood, and the stalwart dwarf Gimli, son of Gloin. They were led by Mithrandir, the Grey Pilgrim, a great wizard from the West. **

**They faced peril. They were waylaid in the Mines of Moria, where Mithrandir fell, and along the River Anduin, where the noble Boromir, pierced by many arrows, fell defending the hobbits.**

**Frodo and Sam proceeded onwards without the rest of the company, led by the creature Gollum, and they traveled the Emyn Muil, the Dead Marshes, Ithilien, and passed into Mordor through Cirith Ungol. **

**Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli pursued Meriadoc and Peregrin, captured by forces of the Enemy, across the plains of Rohan, where they were aided by the valiant men of Rohan, led by Theoden son of Thengel and his nephew, Eomer son of Eomund. It was in Rohan that Mithrandir, returned by the grace of the Valar, aided them as they rescued the hobbits and cast down the traitor Saruman of Isengard. **

**The Dark Lord, prepared for war, sent his servant, the Witch-King of Angmar, ancient foe of Arnor and Gondor, along with foul orcs and the men of Rhun and Harad to destroy Minas Tirith, the great city of Gondor. King Theoden and Lord Denethor perished during the Battle of Pelennor Fields, which was won decisively when Aragorn routed the Corsairs of Umbar at Pelargir and brought the Dunedain of the North to the field in their ships. The Witch-King was slain by Eowyn, sister of Eomer of Rohan. **

**Aragorn, with the united forces of Gondor, Rohan, and the Dunedain, led a Great Host to the Black Gate of Mordor, facing certain defeat at the hands of the Enemy's foul forces. It was on that day, the first of March, that Frodo Baggins, with Samwise beside him, completed his quest at Mount Doom and the Dark Lord Sauron was utterly defeated. **

**Aragorn returned to Minas Tirith, taking up the mantle of King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor, now the Reunited Kingdom. He took Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Elrond Halfelven, as his queen. **

** The Fellowship was ended, and Frodo Baggins and Mithrandir sailed to the Undying Lands with Elrond Halfelven and many High Elves. **

** So began the Fourth Age of the Sun, wherein King Elessar, noble, just, and kind, ruled over the Reunited Kingdom for one-hundred twenty years. **

"Magnificent, my king," Ohtar declared.

"No mention of Faramir?" Elboron asked.

"Or Imrahil?" Adrahil put in.

Belecthor, for once, said nothing, satisfied that Pelargir had made it into the litany.

"Very entertaining, my king," came a deep, booming voice from the back of the throne room, which suddenly fell silent. Gimilkhor of Umbar stepped forward, brushing a lock of his long, dark hair from his eyes. "A good story for children."

"A good story for all of us, Lord Gimilkhor," Eldarion said firmly.

All eyes began darting back and forth between the king and Gimilkhor.

"Of course, Umbar has to be vilified yet again in this telling. Has Umbar launched any attacks on the rest of Gondor in the past 120 years?" Gimilkhor asked.

"How dare you ask such an insolent question of our king?!" Belecthor stepped forward, instantly faltering under the larger man's fierce gaze.

"Stand down, you groveling worm," Gimilkhor growled at the Lord of Lebennin.

Elboron leapt forward, showing no signs of his aging, and looked Gimilkhor squarely in the eye. "Belecthor ranks the same as you, last time I checked. You disgrace yourself by behaving this way in front of the king."

Gimilkhor and Elboron stared hatefully into each other's eyes, and for a moment, it appeared that they may strike each other. The Citadel Guards tightened their grips on their spears.

"Enough!" Eldarion demanded. "We are a Reunited Kingdom. That includes Umbar, Lord Gimilkhor. The Corsairs of Umbar did attack the rest of Gondor one-hundred twenty years ago, yes. That is our history, and we will not deny it because it makes you uncomfortable. Your people were loyal members of the kingdom under my father, and I know you will continue to be. Umbar must learn from its past and walk into the future."

"Of course Umbar was subservient to King Elessar," Gimilkhor snarled. "You would not disobey any man who raises an army of the dead to decimate your armies and goes on to live and rule for over a century. My own grandfather fell at Pelargir fighting against Aragorn and his undead horde. Our people have always been oppressed, throughout history. We were oppressed by Numenor, oppressed by Sauron, and oppressed by the so-called Reunited Kingdom."

Eldarion got to his feet and stepped forward, his guards flanking him closely. Elboron placed a hand on Belecthor's shoulder and pulled him out of the way.

"My father was merciful to your people," Eldarion said angrily. "Umbar became a valued member of the kingdom during his reign."

"Your father was merciful," Gimilkhor laughed mirthlessly. "After he slaughtered the bulk of our forces."

"I don't know how to assuage you, Gimilkhor," Eldarion said, taking on a sadder, less aggressive tone and stance. "But I will not budge on the Corsair line. Leave it out if you want to when you read it, but you can't change the past."

Gimilkhor smirked down at the king. "Paint us as your villains as much as you would like. We swore an oath to the kingdom, which we paid for with the blood of many Umbarans. We will uphold that oath. Give me the blasted scroll, old man."

Targon shakily retrieved a scroll waiting on a nearby table which Gimilkhor snatched from his hands.

"My king." He bowed curtly to Eldarion and led his delegation briskly from Tower Hall.

* * *

An hour later, Eldarion was sitting on the steps leading up to his throne with Beregond still in the steward's chair.

Most of the lords had departed, leaving Elboron, Adrahil, Ohtar, and Belecthor in the throne room. He had called for chairs for the four of them, and they sat and discussed the day's events.

Beregond opened a note that an attendant had just rushed into him. "Gimilkhor and his people are on the way back to Umbar. They already boarded their ship."

"Thank you for coming to my defense, Prince Elboron," Belecthor said humbly.

Elboron gave him a bland smile. "Well, Belecthor, you may be a groveling worm, but you're our groveling worm."

"Hear, hear!" Adrahil raised his goblet and toasted the Lord of Lebennin.

Belecthor surprised them by giving a self-deprecating laugh. "I mean, he isn't wrong. I'm not a fighter. My grandfather was the brave one."

"My father had told me so," Eldarion said. "Not everyone has to be a warrior, Belecthor. You do good work for the kingdom. You do it with a lot more fanfare than you need to sometimes, but the people do love a show."

"That they do, my king," Belecthor said. "And I'm sorry for scheming to get you to marry my sister."

Eldarion laughed at this newfound candor. "Even if you had ever succeeded in convincing me, I'm not certain that you ever could have brought Lady Firiel to heel."

Beregond coughed suddenly, and everyone turned to see him blush furiously.

Elboron and Eldarion exchanged a knowing glance.

"My king," Beregond said, "Didn't you want to share where you got the idea for holding a yearly observance for Frodo!"

"Oh, yes!" Eldarion knew Beregond was intentionally changing the subject, but he allowed his friend some discretion. "The letter from Merry!"

The steward held a weathered bit of parchment out to the king, and Eldarion began to read:

_22 September, 1465_

_Brandy Hall, Buckland_

_Dear Strider,_

_I know that letters don't make it from Buckland to Minas Tirith in one day, but I wanted to write to you today knowing it's Frodo's birthday. It was 44 years ago that he and Bilbo sailed over the sea with Gandalf and the elves. Sam and Pippin and Fatty and our families will have our usual party at Bag End later today, but it makes me sad to see how few hobbits know what a hero he was. Children still know Bilbo's name because of his disappearing, but no one really celebrates Frodo. _

_I thought of you because you were one of the only people who really knew my cousin. Frodo thought the world of you, and I know you felt the same way. I've had a lot of time to think about it, and I think the Ring started working its way into his mind when we got out of Moria and we all thought Gandalf was lost to us. Sam never left his side, yes, but I think you were just a big a part of him being able to move forward. You were more than his protector and guide. You were his friend, and a truly stalwart friend at that. I think that you and Sam were the only two people he completely trusted. _

_I'm not writing to make you sad, and I hope that you are quite the opposite. You're king of the world, and what's more, you have a great family. I suppose that I've just been thinking of the way it could have been. When Sauron was destroyed and the war was over, I had visions of Frodo, Sam, Pippin, and me growing old and fat together in the Shire, riding over to meet you for an ale at the Inn of the Prancing Pony in Bree, looking for Bombadil in the Old Forest, Gandalf and Bilbo telling our children stories and setting off fireworks while Legolas and Gimli argue about who killed more orcs on the Pelennor… I didn't think it would mean that everyone would scatter to the wind. _

_At the end of the day, I know I will feel better. We will have our celebration and we'll talk about Frodo and Bilbo and drink and laugh and cry a bit. Bringing people together is what keeps the old tales alive, and I hope that Frodo's will never die._

_Thinking of you often,_

_Merry Brandybuck_

Elboron, having interacted with Merry numerous times before his passing, smiled. "He would have been so proud of what you did today, no matter what they'll say in Umbar."

"It's humorous to think of King Elessar drinking ale at an inn," Belecthor remarked.

"My father told me about the Prancing Pony a few times," Eldarion said. "After all, it's where he met the hobbits and hid them from the Nazgul, which was all he could do at the time."

"It's a shame my mother hadn't been there to kill the Witch-King then and there," Elboron said. "I used to have nightmares about him when I was a boy. I can't imagine having to face down an enemy like him."

"I suppose we have them all, Frodo, my grandfather, Lady Eowyn, and the rest of those heroes, to thank that we are living in a world where such enemies no longer exist," Ohtar remarked.

Eldarion considered this. Gimilkhor was tall, dark, and a bully, but dealing with him was definitely preferable to facing down the Witch-King of Angmar. "I suppose we should."

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. If so, please follow, favorite, and review!


	7. The Invitation and Gimli

Dear Strider, Chapter Seven

Eldarion meets with the new Chief Loremaster of the Reunited Kingdom and receives a letter containing an invitation from his sister, Melian. Beregond and Eldarion discuss Galadriel, informed by a letter from Gimli.

Author's Note: On the day that I am posting this chapter, I completed my outline for this story. I am so excited to move forward with Dear Strider, and I hope that you will stick around to see what I have planned. Thank you for reading, and please enjoy the latest chapter!

* * *

"I have your schedule for the day, my king," Beregond said as Eldarion stepped out of his private chambers, freshly dressed for the day's labors. "You have a number of messages that have arrived for you, and the new Chief Loremaster is already here to see you."

Targon, who had served the kingdom faithfully for the second half of Elessar's reign, had died peacefully a fortnight ago. The archives had sent forth a promising young man named Findegil to succeed him. Beregond had been completing a grueling vetting process for the past five days. He had personally been grilling Findegil with difficult questions, both professional and personal, and he wound up being more impressed than he would have thought with so young a candidate.

Eldarion and Beregond walked to the council chamber, which was warmer than Tower Hall. The November chill was beginning to creep into the stones of Minas Tirith, and Elessar's custom had always been to do as much business in the council chamber during the colder months as possible.

"Winter is coming, my king," Beregond said.

"There is no doubt about that," Eldarion replied.

The Citadel Guards stationed outside the council chamber held the doors open for the king and his steward. In the chair nearest to the door sat a tall, thin young man with a shock of red hair and piercing blue eyes. He stood quickly as Eldarion entered and crossed to his seat at the head of the table.

"Good morning, my king."

"Good morning, Chief Loremaster. I am pleased to welcome you into my service. What is your name?"

"I am Findegil son of Findemir, my king."

"I believe you are already acquainted with my steward, Beregond son of Bergil."

Findegil offered a smile to Beregond. "I am, my king. We have been getting to know each other quite well over the past week."

Beregond returned the smile before addressing the king. "I can assure you, my king, that Chief Loremaster Findegil is the ideal successor to Targon. He has a deep-rooted respect for the past and a bold vision for the future."

Eldarion raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A loremaster with a vision for the future? It's usually the opposite. Would either of you care to elaborate?"

"My king," Findegil began, "I have been immersed in the archives of Minas Tirith for all twenty-seven years of my life. The archives are extensive and contain many unique and remarkable texts, but nearly all of them deal with either Numenor or Gondor. There is little variety among the texts that we have to offer our people. Your father, King Elessar, united us with Arnor once again. I want to start by making Arnorian history and literature accessible in Minas Tirith."

"My sister, Lady Melian, is the Regent of Arnor. You will be pleased to know that she has devoted much of her regency to uncovering historical artifacts and sites throughout the north and restoring them to glory."

"Of course, my king," Findegil said, "But I don't intend to stop with Arnor. I wish to collaborate with colleagues in the other nations of Middle Earth to ensure that our information is available to everyone. Rohan, Dale, Rhun, Harad, Dunland… there are so many lands with so many tales that we don't know. We are part of a continent rich in cultures and traditions. I believe that sharing those with each other is the best way that we can continue your father's work of bringing the world closer together."

Eldarion could not suppress a grin. "I can see why you like him, Beregond. Findegil, I am pleased to see your enthusiasm for your calling, and I know we look forward to working together with you for many years to come."

"Thank you, my king," Findegil said, bowing and exiting the chamber.

"Well done, my friend," Eldarion said to Beregond. "Now, what else do we have today?"

Beregond withdrew a furled page from his pocket and looked over the itinerary.

"King Elfwine of Rohan sends word that their border dispute with the clans of Dunland has been settled."

"Very good."

"Our contacts in Umbar report that the ambassadors from Rhun have been dining with Gimilkhor at an increasing frequency."

Though it had been a month and a half ago, Gimilkhor's outburst in Tower Hall still kept Eldarion awake at night. "Is there a way that we can attempt to placate Umbar and ensure that Gimilkhor isn't fomenting insurrection?"

Beregond grimaced. "Belecthor already attempted such a thing. He and his delegation brought gifts from Pelargir to Umbar. Gimilkhor gave a quick thank you and left the docks immediately. It was humiliating for Belecthor."

"What else did Firiel say in her last letter?"

Beregond said nothing, but glared at the king. "Anyway, you have a letter from Lady Melian."

Eldarion didn't answer right away. Melian didn't write often, often choosing to communicate by sending Ohtar south. When she did write, the letters were often didactic and strict in tone. "Let's see it, then."

"I didn't open it," Beregond said.

Eldarion took a deep breath before breaking the blue wax seal on the letter and began to read.

_27 October, Year 120 of the Fourth Age_

_Annuminas, Arnor_

_Dear Eldarion,_

_I hope that my letter finds you well. I am sure that you and Gilriel have been similarly grieved by Father's death and Mother's departure, but I have done my best to channel my grief into uncovering and preserving our legacy to the north. _

_Ohtar informed me of what transpired on the Twenty-Second of September, and I believe that Lord Gimilkhor has disgraced himself, Umbar, and the Reunited Kingdom as a whole. To insult our father's memory before the full court like that was intolerable. I personally would not have allowed such an incident to go unpunished, but then I suppose that I am not as forgiving as you are. Regardless of my thoughts on how to handle Umbar, I'm sure our parents would both applaud your kindness. _

_My primary purpose in writing is to invite you north to celebrate Yule with Ohtar and myself at Annuminas. You are the king of the Reunited Kingdom, and I know it would send the right message to your subjects here in the north. I would be honored to show you the work that we have been doing here. Bring Gilriel and Adrahil and whatever retinue you see fit. (Prince Elboron may join you if he is going to show decorum this time.) _

_I remain your loyal regent and loving sister,_

_Melian daughter of Elessar, Lady Regent of Arnor_

_P.S.: If and when you do come north, please bring along this collection of letters that Ohtar has informed me about. If you need a further incentive, I happen to be in possession of a letter that our great-grandmother, Galadriel, sent to Mother before she departed to the Undying Lands. _

"That sounds like an offer that no one could dare to refuse," Beregond remarked.

"She is quite remarkable, my sister," Eldarion laughed. "In one paragraph, she can both accuse and applaud me for my handling of Gimilkhor. So, Beregond. Any plans for this Yule?"

"I believe I will be in Annuminas," Beregond said.

"To give credit where credit is due, I suppose she did sweeten the pot by mentioning the letter from Galadriel. I am fascinated by that prospect."

"Forgive me for my ignorance, but who was Galadriel?" Beregond said. "I know she was an elf and she was your great-grandmother and she lived in Lothlorien, but I don't know much else about her."

"I never got the chance to meet her," Eldarion said, "But I'm told she was the most powerful elf in Middle-Earth. She held one of the three rings."

Beregond was stunned. "And here, I thought your human lineage was impressive!"

"Bring me the box, and I'll tell you more," Eldarion said.

Beregond walked over to a nearby shelf and retrieved the wooden box that held all of the letters from the Fellowship and placed it in front of Eldarion.

Eldarion rifled through the papers for a few minutes before exclaiming and withdrawing a piece of parchment. "I read this one a few weeks ago, and it told me quite a bit about Galadriel."

"From Legolas?" Beregond asked.

"You would think so, him being an elf and all, but no. This was written by Gimli."

Eldarion began to read aloud.

_19 February, Year 30 F.A._

_Aglarond_

_Aragorn,_

_Our delving into the Glittering Caves has proved a great success, and Eomer and Legolas have been suitable amazed by the home that we have made. _

_As Lord of the Glittering Caves, many of my dwarves have asked me if I will take a wife. I don't know that I ever can, because while our caves are beautiful, my heart still longs for that gem that sailed beyond the sea and is lost to me forever. I wanted to send you the verse I have been composing. If you think it's any good, you can have your minstrels set it to music so that all shall know the glory of the Lady of Light. _

_ In ancient times, she made her deadly flight_

_ She braved the ice and came to a new land_

_ Though cold and tired, she shone with brilliant light_

_ And soon, she wore a ring upon her hand_

_ With Celeborn, she aided many folk_

_ And from old Lindon, south began to roam_

_ They helped to found the forge where rings awoke_

_ And made Lothlorien their wooded home_

_ A ring of power she would then receive_

_ That adamant and water did command_

_ But Sauron then attempted to deceive_

_ And forged the One Ring in his evil land_

_ She rallied men and elves to stem the tide_

_ And men and elves their long, hard battle won_

_ The ring was lost, in Anduin to hide_

_ Galadriel knew she was not yet done_

_ In Lorien she reigned for many years_

_ And joined the wise upon their Council White_

_ When shadow had returned to grow our fears_

_ She came to Hill of Sorcery to fight_

_ The Dark Lord's power was growing once again_

_ And nine walkers from Rivendell were sent _

_ A dwarf, an elf, four hobbits, and two men_

_ All led by grey-cloaked Gandalf, old and bent_

_ Brave Frodo Baggins came into her wood_

_ Where he and friends would respite from their strife_

_ The Lady knew they could not stay for good_

_ Their Fellowship stood on the edge of knife_

_ The hobbit looked in her wondrous mirror_

_ And offered her the enemy's foul Ring_

_ And though her own ambition she did fear_

_ She never laid a finger on the thing_

_ The Fellowship soon sailed towards their quest_

_ And Celeborn turned eyes towards the East_

_ Towards Dol Guldur, enemy possessed_

_ Sending forth their orcs, spiders, and beasts_

_ The Lady donned her ring and rode to war_

_ Her elves with valor fought under the eaves_

_ And with her word, Dol Guldur was no more_

_ An empty ruin there among the trees_

_ The One Ring was destroyed and Sauron died_

_ And Middle-Earth was finally set free_

_ And our great lady, now most satisfied_

_ Took one last look and sailed across the sea_

_ She lived through ages and she did it all_

_ From chasing jewels to breaking strongholds fell_

_ Without her, the Dark Lord would never fall_

_ Our mighty elven queen, Galadriel_

_It doesn't do her justice by a long shot, but I wanted to share it with you and Arwen. _

_Your friend,_

_Gimli son of Gloin_

"Your parents never shared this with you?" Beregond asked. "I have never heard this song sung in Gondor."

"It is odd," Eldarion said. "It is a wonderful work. But I am honestly not surprised. Mother told me that I would be a king of men and that I must put my human heritage before my elven lineage, which wasn't easy considering that I am directly descended from both Lady Galadriel and Elrond Halfelven."

"It's understandable that Queen Arwen wanted you to be relatable to your people," Beregond said. "The common people don't always take well to lofty lineages. People get jealous so easily."

"I suppose we need to consider logistics if we want to go north," Eldarion said. "It means that in addition to myself, the Princes of Ithilien and Dol Amroth will be out of their keeps. We need a steady substitute to keep everything calm while we go north. Anyone in mind?"

Beregond smiled as if he was about to tell a joke. "You're going to think I am out of my mind for saying this."

"What?" Eldarion frowned.

"My king, I think that Belecthor is the ideal person to leave in charge."

Eldarion raised his eyebrows. "That's something I never thought I would hear you say."

"He represents you in so many matters that the people trust him," Beregond explained. "And he will take his job seriously. I expect he will run a tight ship."

The word "ship," made Eldarion think of Umbar. "Gimilkhor will not be happy."

"Then Gimilkhor will have to get into the Yule spirit and accept it until we return," Beregond said disdainfully. "Give him the winter to recover from his fit, and we will try to properly bring him into the fold come spring."

Eldarion was still uneasy about the idea of leaving Gondor while the incident with Gimilkhor was unresolved, but he did need to see his people in Arnor, and Beregond had presented a reasonable plan. "I'll agree on one condition."

"My king?" Beregond asked.

"Write to Firiel and apologize that you won't be able to spend Yule with her. She will be very pleased."

Beregond shook his head in annoyance, but the thought of Lady Firiel pining after him during Yule won out, and he acquiesced to Eldarion's demand.

"One more thing," Eldarion said as Beregond made to leave the chamber and go write. "It will be cold up north. Please make sure that our retinue packs plenty of warm clothing."

"Of course, my king." Beregond exited.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading my latest chapter. If you enjoyed it, please follow, favorite, and review!


	8. Annuminas and Galadriel

Dear Strider, Chapter Eight

Eldarion and many members of the Gondorian court arrive in Annuminas, capital city of Arnor to celebrate Yule with his sister, Lady Melian. Galadriel writes a farewell to her granddaughter.

Author's Note: This chapter is long! All the same, I hope that you find that it is worth it. (Chances are, if you are reading this story, you have read over 1,500 pages of Tolkien's narrative and watched over nine hours of Jackson's films, which doesn't even touch the documentaries on the extended editions. I like to think that Tolkien fans are the least daunted by content length out of anyone.) It was important to me that, after building up Melian, the second child of Aragorn and Arwen, that we got to spend a significant amount of time with her, and since this story is set during Yule, think of it as a feature-length Christmas special.

I did want to address one question from a review. MariaJulietBituin, while Eldarion does have the blood of the Maiar, it is my view that, during the Fourth Age, a lot of the more magical elements of Middle-Earth began to fade. As a humble fanfiction writer, it is not my place to say whether or not Eldarion or his sisters have any powers, but I don't plan on exploring that (at least in this story). Thank you to all who have read and reviewed this story, and I hope you enjoy my latest chapter!

* * *

The city of Annuminas gleamed like a diamond, even covered with snow. Braziers burned brightly along the road and the fur-clad citizens waved and cheered as Eldarion and his party rode towards the Bridge of Tyl Annun, the fortified island where sat Ost Elendil, the seat of power in Arnor in the Second and Third Ages. Many banners of the White Tree had been placed along the route.

Eldarion, Gilriel and the Princes Elboron and Adrahil rode at the head of the company, smiling and waving to everyone. Beregond and Findegil rode just behind them, taking in the scene.

"This city is marvelous!" Findegil said. "Truly a testament to our Numenorean ancestors."

"Our ancestors, yes, but King Elessar chose to restore the city in the early years of his reign. Now, Lady Melian maintains it."

"I've been hearing a lot about Lady Melian on the ride north," said Findegil. "I hear that she is the strongest-willed of the three children of Elessar."

"She is certainly the most stubborn," Beregond said. "When I came to serve King Elessar about thirty years ago, the king had just granted Lady Melian's request to be made Regent of Arnor. She was insistent in asking for more aid and funding to make the north self-sufficient. She hasn't succeeded yet, but Arnor asks the crown for less and less in aid every year. What she is doing is working, and the people of Arnor love her."

"I suppose I'll be able to make a few judgments for myself shortly," Findegil mused.

The procession crossed over the bridge, where the cheering people were replaced by lines of guards standing at attention. The street leading forward to Ost Elendil was spotlessly clean. It led them all to a large square from which the palace steps were accessible. Melian's court was gathered around. These were men and women descended from or related to members of the Grey Company, the group of Dunedain who had rode south to aid King Elessar in the War of the Ring. More reserved than the crowds in the city, they applauded politely but enthusiastically as King Eldarion dismounted.

At the top of the stairs of the palace stood Lady Melian, looking as though she had been carved from marble herself, her son Ohtar standing next to her. She wore her long, golden hair in a simple braid down her back, and she wore a thick, white fur cloak. Underneath the cloak was a sable dress adorned with the white tree. Her deep, blue eyes shone with a firm sort of affection as her siblings approached the steps.

Lady Melian slowly began to descend the stairs to greet the king, and her guards saluted her as she came level with each one. Ohtar followed stoically, two steps behind his mother. When she finally reached Eldarion, she curtseyed low, declaring in ringing tones, "Arnor is yours, King Eldarion. Ohtar and I welcome you." Ohtar bowed as well.

"Sister, dear," Eldarion kissed Melian's hand, earning him a small smile. "It's good to see you."

Melian moved down the line to Gilriel. "Welcome, Gilriel," she declined her head respectfully.

"Hello, Melian!" Gilriel stepped forward to embrace her older sister, and after a moment's awkwardness, Melian returned the hug daintily.

"Prince Adrahil," Melian nodded to her brother-in-law.

"Lady Melian." Adrahil bowed.

Melian set her jaw as she reached Elboron.

"Nice to see you again, Melian," Elboron grinned.

"Yes, Elboron," Melian said. She turned out to address her guests and the court. "We at Annuminas are pleased to welcome our King! Let us celebrate kingdom and kinship with a great feast in this hall!"

The court applauded, and Melian took Eldarion by the hand, leading him up the stairs.

Findegil was stunned as he followed Beregond into Ost Elendil. "No one ever told me that she was so beautiful."

"It shouldn't come as a surprise," Beregond chuckled. "She's from two very fair lineages."

"She doesn't like Prince Elboron very much, does she?" Findegil asked.

"She does not," Beregond said.

* * *

The various courtiers sat at tables around the great hall. The hall was warmed by fireplaces that lined the east and west walls of the room, and the frosty sunset cast rays of light through the many tall windows. The star of the Dunedain was crafted into much of the stonework of the hall, and the stars glittered in the low light, casting small, shining flecks onto everyone.

The master of Melian's household announced the entrance of the king and the regent, and the court cheered enthusiastically. Eldarion, dressed in a white and sable doublet smiled widely and waved at those assembled. Melian, wearing the same dress from under her coat, gave a small smile and a nod, raising her hand in greeting. The other members of the royal party entered and were seated at the head table, Beregond and Findegil down at the end.

Melian remained standing and turned to the west, raising her glass in silent reflection, and a hush fell as all of those assembled did the same. When Melian lowered her glass, she sat, and all were seated, beginning the feast.

"So how are you, Melian?" Eldarion asked his sister as she began gracefully, precisely carving into the pheasant.

"Our subjects in the north are well-fed and well-housed for the coming winter. Arnor has more functioning settlements than it did throughout the Third Age. My Dunedain loremasters have transcribed a great deal of our oral history into records that all Arnorians can be proud of. I would say I'm doing well. How are you, Eldarion?"

"To be honest, I'm still uneasy about Umbar."

Melian frowned and skewered a potato from the serving plate with her fork. "You chose the kind option when dealing with Gimilkhor. It's not my place to argue with my king, but I would not have let him return to Umbar so quickly. My sources tell me that Lord Belecthor's peace offering did not go over well."

"It showed great forgiveness, Belecthor's gesture," Eldarion said.

"Perhaps it did, but Gimilkhor treated him like a throwaway messenger. And now, you leave the same lord to watch over Gondor in your absence."

"Who would you suggest that I should have left in charge?" Eldarion asked.

Melian didn't answer, but fixed her frosty eyes on Elboron, who was talking and laughing with Gilriel and Adrahil further down the table.

At the other end of the head table, Findegil and Beregond were observing the scene with interest. "Why does she despise him?" Findegil asked.

Beregond sighed. "Many years ago, Elfwine son of Eomer, Prince of Rohan was in love with Melian. He would often come to Emyn Arnen, where he would stay with his aunt."

"Princess Eowyn?" Findegil asked.

"Correct," Beregond replied. "Elboron and Elfwine are cousins and best of friends. Elboron attempted to contrive many meetings between the two, but Melian's heart belonged to another."

"Lord Eradan?"

"Yes. Lord Eradan was the son of Halbarad, King Elessar's second-in-command in the north. Halbarad fell on the Pelennor when his son was an infant, and Eradan, for a time, was fostered at Minas Tirith. He was somewhat older than Melian, and she adored him. Eradan was kind, but he was fairly oblivious to Melian's feelings. Elboron and Elfwine befriended Eradan and convinced him that he should aspire to the Regency of Arnor, to serve Elessar as Halbarad had done."

"That would get Eradan out of the way so that Elfwine could pursue Melian?" Findegil conjectured.

"Precisely," Beregond said. "Eradan felt it was his duty to serve and protect the north as Halbarad had done, so he asked King Elessar, and he granted him the position. Eradan rode north the next day. When Melian discovered what had transpired, she gathered a retinue of knights and rode north after him. She found him surveying the ruins of Fornost, and it was there that she convinced him to marry her. They lived dutifully and happily in Arnor, and when Eradan died, Elessar granted the regency to Melian rather than letting it pass directly to Ohtar."

"She got everything she wanted though," Findegil said.

"She did," Beregond looked across the table at Melian, "but she has always held a grudge against Elboron for sending Eradan away."

* * *

"I hope that dinner was to your liking," Melian said as the royal party processed to her quarters for a private dessert. "Prince Adrahil has been kind enough to bring us some confections from Dol Amroth, which I'm sure will prove most delightful."

"Candied fruit," Adrahil announced. "Some from our gardens, some from more exotic varieties grown in Harad. Candied so it would not spoil on the ride north."

Melian turned to a well-dressed woman walking next to her. "Prince Adrahil has always had a taste for sweet foods. I can't say that I do, but to each their own."

"Perhaps we could do with a few more confectionaries in Annuminas, Melian," the woman said. "Some culinary variety is just what your people need."

Eldarion braced himself for Melian to make some sort of argument, but to his surprise, his sister smiled and shook her head. "My king, Gilriel, friends, this is Lady Vardiel, daughter of Radanir. Her father was a ranger who rode with the Grey Company and fought with King Elessar at Pelargir, on the Pelennor, and at the Morannon. She has proved herself a loyal friend countless times."

Vardiel had long dark hair and soft grey eyes. She stood half a head shorter than Melian, but unlike her companion, had begun to develop smile lines. "I am honored to meet you at last King Eldarion." She stopped to curtsey.

"The honor is mine, Lady Vardiel," Eldarion said. "My father spoke to me of Radanir. I am well acquainted with his heroism. Anyway, a friend of my sister's is a friend of mine."

"It is a credential that she rarely bestows," Vardiel laughed, looking playfully at Melian, who waved the comment away imperiously.

"Here we are at last," Melian said. "Please, make yourselves comfortable." She looked at Elboron. "But not too comfortable."

"That's about the welcome I expected," muttered Elboron under his breath.

Melian's visiting chamber was very spacious and well-appointed. There was a long table in the center of the room filled with the fruit that Adrahil had brought as well as cakes and sweetbreads from the bakeries of Annuminas. A merry fire crackled in the hearth.

Findegil was once again impressed by the high, stone ceiling and tall windows that were so common in Ost Elendil. His internal reverie was interrupted when Lord Ohtar walked up to him.

"Well met, Chief Loremaster," Ohtar said. "Welcome to Annuminas."

"Thank you, Lord Ohtar," Findegil said.

"We were grieved by the loss of Targon," Ohtar said. "He was a great man, and my mother and I both learned much from him. All the same, I look forward to working with you."

"Likewise," Findegil offered a smile. "I respect your mother's historic work up here in Arnor. There has been a more ambitious restoration project in the history of Middle-Earth."

"I would wager that the work that my grandfather commissioned in rebuilding Osgiliath was comparable," Ohtar said.

"With respect, Osgiliath wasn't abandoned as long as many of the keeps and settlements in Arnor."

Ohtar shrugged. "It is my hope to continue the rebuilding of our great fortresses."

"Fornost?" Findegil asked.

Ohtar gave an unfathomable smile. "Minas Ithil."

Findegil raised his eyebrows. "My lord, Minas Ithil has been abandoned since the end of the Third Age, and King Elessar said it was a place of great evil. Those who dwell in the north must still hear stories of the terror of the Witch-King of Angmar."

"They do. My father, Lord Eradan, told me all about the ancient wars with Angmar. He was a noble man, but even he would go pale when he told tales of the Witch-King."

"But you never went pale?" Findegil asked.

Ohtar gave another unfathomable smile. "No. It's time the world moved on from Sauron and all of his works. We must never forget our history, but we need to proceed into the future. The old shadow has passed away. Sauron and the Witch-King have been gone for over a century, and they will never rise again. What better way to show the world we are progressing than to repossess the great fortress of Isildur?"

Findegil was uneasy about Minas Morgul. When he was in training with the archivists, he spent a year in Osgiliath. During that year, he and three of his fellow students had dared to enter the Morgul Vale and look upon the ruin of the city. Elessar had it destroyed in the tenth year of his reign, but there was an abiding malice that haunted the valley. Despite the great historical significance of the city, he had no desire ever to return to that awful place.

"I have no doubt that you will do what is best," Findegil said awkwardly, giving a small bow and going to find Beregond.

In the center of the room, Melian and Gilriel sat on opposite couches with glasses of wine. Eldarion sat next to Gilriel, and Lady Vardiel sat next to the regent.

"I do have Gimli's carving of Galadriel, yes," Melian said. "I keep it in my office. Our great-grandmother was quite the aspirational role model. I hope that she would be proud of the work that I have done here."

"We all are, Melian," Gilriel said. "I don't think I would ever have the patience or the stamina to dig through ruins and record all of that history."

Melian gave a fixed smile. "We all have our talents, sister. I doubt I could keep Dol Amroth as entertained as you and your husband do."

"We could do with some more entertainment, Melian," Vardiel said. "Imagine if we sent some of our historians to Dol Amroth and they sent some of their performers to Annuminas?"

Melian pursed her lips. "I can certainly imagine the expense. What say you, Eldarion? Has this flair for the dramatic made its way north to Minas Tirith? Should we expect pantomime on the steps of the Tower of Ecthelion?"

Eldarion chuckled. "Most of our performances take place in the fifth circle of the city. The top circle should be peaceful and reverent for the sake of calm, contemplative government."

Melian gave an approving nod.

Vardiel laughed. "If I may, my king, what was it like to grow up with these two in one household?"

Gilriel grinned widely, but Melian looked at her brother very seriously and expectantly.

Eldarion gestured to his sisters and their characteristic reactions. "It was a lot like this."

Even Melian could not suppress a chuckle. "Mother always said that Gilriel was like the sun and I am like the moon. I do believe she had a point."

Vardiel smiled. "Either way, my king, you are lucky to have such shining sisters."

Gilriel placed a hand on her heart to indicate she was touched.

"Don't get sentimental, Vardiel," Melian scoffed, waving her comment away.

"Please, call me Eldarion," the king said to Vardiel, raising a scandalized look in Melian.

"Brother, I'm sure that the last thing you would desire is for word to get out that your subjects are not properly deferential to you."

Vardiel flinched. "Is a subject of the kingdom all I am to you, Melian?"

Melian's cheeks grew slightly red. "We are all subjects of the king, Vardiel. Even I must defer to my brother."

"Even you," Gilriel laughed.

Melian surveyed the rest of the room. "It's getting late, and I think we need to adjourn before our dear Prince Elboron sees fit to begin his usual bawdy carousing."

Elboron and Adrahil had attracted quite an audience, and it did seem that a song was imminent.

Melian stood, nodding to her head of household to ring the gong on the south side of the room. "I thank you all for joining us for this wonderful reception. I know you all join me in celebrating our continued kinship with our friends and family in Gondor. To my brother, King Eldarion!"

"To the king!" the party-goers declared as they raised their glasses.

When everyone had drank, Melian bid goodnight to the crowd, and the court of Annuminas began to file out of the chamber. Everyone knew that when Melian said it was time to go home, it was time to go home. Even so, she and Eldarion stood near the door, graciously thanking everyone for attending.

After ten minutes had passed, only the royal family, Vardiel, Elboron, Beregond, and Findegil remained.

Melian returned to the couch, taking a deep breath and finally leaning back. "So now that's over with, and we can have a proper discussion."

Everyone gathered around and sat.

"What would you like to do with your time here, Eldarion?"

Eldarion angled himself to face Melian. "Most importantly, I want to see all of the work you have been doing. I want to personally thank all those who have aided you in your labor."

Melian nodded and smiled more warmly than she had throughout the day. "I can't begin to tell you how much that pleases me. It will please those who have done the actual hard labor even more to meet their king."

"There is something else," Eldarion continued. Everyone looked towards him. "As you have requested, Melian, I brought the letters from the Fellowship north for your perusal. As we have all been fascinated by Father's life before his kingship, I wanted to see if I could persuade you and Ohtar to guide us on a quest to see some of the places that the members of the Fellowship travelled."

Melian looked at Ohtar, who said, "Please, Mother, I think it would be a most appropriate way to spend our time as a family while we are all here in the north."

Everyone looked at the regent to see her reaction, which remained impassive. "Where in particular were you thinking?"

"For one," Gilriel spoke up, "I would like to visit _The Prancing Pony _in Bree. Where Father first met the Ringbearer."

"Bree is less than a day's ride from the old barrows of Cardolan," Ohtar said. "I would very much like to see them if we go there."

"And I don't suppose we could go to the Shire?" Gilriel asked.

Melian furrowed her brow. "I am in favor of visiting Bree and the barrows. Eldarion knows as well as I that Father issued a decree that no man (or woman) shall set foot in the Shire."

"That is true," Eldarion said, "But there is no reason why we can't get a good look from an appropriate distance. After all, I am the king."

"What of Weathertop?" Elboron asked. "Merry and Pippin told me all about that place, and I would be interested to see it."

"Amon Sul is currently undergoing excavation and renovations," Melian said very quickly. "Until that task is completed, it will remain off-limits, unless the king truly desires to go there." She turned her icy eyes on her brother.

"Perhaps we will visit Weathertop the next time we come north, Elboron," he said.

"It's decided then," Melian announced in a much warmer tone. "We shall go to see the places that our father and his companions traveled in the north. To bed?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Gilriel asked.

Melian turned her head sharply towards her sister. "What?"

"You did write that there was a letter from Galadriel to Mother," Eldarion reminded her.

Inwardly, Melian wondered whether her family had only come north for the letter, but she was too stoic to voice that. "Of course," she said diplomatically. "Ohtar, would you please go and retrieve the letter from my desk?"

Within a few minutes, Ohtar had returned with a creased but still crisp piece of parchment which he handed gingerly to his mother.

"Thank you," she said. She began to read.

_29 September, Year 3021 of the Third Age_

_Mithlond_

_To my beloved granddaughter, Arwen Undomiel,_

_By the time you are reading this letter, I, along with your father, Mithrandir, Bilbo, and Frodo will have sailed to the Undying Lands, never to set foot on the shores of Middle-Earth again. _

_When the world was young, I was proud and reckless, and with my brothers, I traversed the Grinding Ice to come to Doriath. It was in the Court of King Thingol that two of the most important meetings of my life took place. I met Queen Melian, one of the Maiar, who taught me so much of what I know about the world and the powers that govern it. I also met a noble elf-lord named Celeborn, a kinsman of the king, who became my great love and companion throughout the ages of the world. _

_Celeborn and I lived in many different parts of the world. From Doriath to the Havens of Sirion to Lindon to Eregion to Edhellond and ultimately to Lothlorien. Each time we moved, it felt as though some of our history was left behind. By the time we dwelt in Caras Galadhon, very little of our history and lineage mattered to anyone outside of our family. _

_That must sound very sad, but something wonderful happened while we enriched our woodland realm: We became your grandparents. The times that you spent with us in Lothlorien are some of my greatest treasures from this life, sweet Arwen, and leaving you in Middle-Earth is one of the most difficult things I have ever had to face. _

_I want you to know that I cannot wish you and Aragorn more happiness than I already have. He is the greatest man I have ever known, and I did meet Beren in Doriath. I foresee that he will be a great king, and those who follow in your bloodline will have the same great destiny. A word of advice: make your children proud of their human ancestry, for a time will soon come when elves are all but a myth to men. Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, and perhaps even Mithrandir will fade into the depths of memory, but Aragorn son of Arathorn must endure in the hearts of all who live as do Beren and Elendil. _

_You have chosen your fate, as did Luthien before you. My final gift to you is the knowledge that, when Aragorn does succumb to the doom of all men, there will be a place for you. The place where it all began. My final act as Bearer of Nenya is to preserve it for you for all time. _

_Celeborn is staying to order the affairs of our people for a time. I am sure that he would be pleased if ever you were to visit him in Lothlorien. Please give my love to Aragorn and to Legolas and Gimli. Most of all, granddaughter, know that you will always be in my heart._

_All of my love and Farewell,_

_Galadriel_

As Melian concluded the letter with a sad smile, the room was silent. All were focused on Eldarion and Gilriel.

Eldarion stared at the starlight through the western window of the chamber as snow fell softly down.

Glimmering tears streamed down Gilriel's face as she leaned into Adrahil's shoulder.

"It's alright, Aunt Gilriel," Ohtar said. "She wrote this over one-hundred years ago. There's no reason to be upset." He looked at his mother for approval, but she looked at him reproachfully.

Melian rose and moved to the spot between her siblings on the other couch, taking them both firmly by the hand. She raised her regal face to address the rest of the room. "Thank you all for coming north, and I bid you a good night."

Adrahil, Elboron, Beregond, and Findegil all rose to leave the three siblings alone. Ohtar clearly wanted to stay, but Vardiel put a hand on his back, gently herding him from the room.

Finally, it was only Eldarion, Melian, and Gilriel. All that could be heard for a while was the sniffling of Gilriel and the crackling of the fireplace.

"I miss our parents so much," Gilriel's voice shook as she cried gently.

Eldarion turned away from the window to face his sisters. "I just realized that this is the first Yule we have had without them."

Melian looked from her brother to her sister. "They're not really gone. They live in the three of us every day of our lives."

"That's rather poetic for you," Eldarion said.

Gilriel leaned her head on Melian's shoulder. "I always forget how nice you actually are."

Eldarion could not help but laugh, and soon, Gilriel did too.

Melian managed a small smile. "The only reason you forget I'm nice is because you spend too much time with Elboron, that scoundrel. He is the sole reason that everyone in the south is so intimidated by me."

"You know," Eldarion said, "Findegil told me that the people of Gondor used to believe that Galadriel was a wicked sorceress who ensnared all who entered her woods. At least you don't have that kind of bad publicity."

Melian raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't know that. It honestly makes me feel a lot better. Imagine how Boromir must have felt going into Lothlorien!"

"We know who you really are, Melian," Gilriel said. "You're our sister. You're a bit scary sometimes, but you will always be our sister."

"And we will always love you," Eldarion said, putting an arm around Melian.

The king, the regent, and the princess sat like that for quite awhile.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this latest chapter! I hope that you enjoyed it, and if you did, please follow, favorite, and review!


	9. Bree-land and Samwise

Dear Strider, Chapter Nine

Eldarion and his siblings visit Bree and the Barrow-Downs. Sam writes to Aragorn about a recent trip to _The Prancing Pony_.

Author's Note: Thank you to those who have continued to read this story. We are past the halfway point of what I have planned for this story, and I'm hoping that you will enjoy the remaining chapters.

* * *

Yule had been a pleasant experience for the whole family. Melian and Ohtar took the opportunity to show Eldarion, Beregond, and Findegil all around the city while Gilriel, Adrahil, and Elboron got to know Lady Vardiel and other members of Melian's court.

Eldarion's uneasiness about being away from Gondor lessened somewhat when he received a very encouraging missive from Lord Belecthor assuring him that all was well and that the Lords of Gondor (including Gimilkhor) sent the king and his family warm, Yule greetings.

It was decided that Eldarion would ride from Bree with his sisters, Beregond, Ohtar, and Elboron. Adrahil and Findegil would stay behind, as Adrahil had developed a cold and Findegil wanted to consult with the loremasters of Annuminas.

The night before they were to ride, Eldarion sat in his guest chamber with Melian, Gilriel, Elboron, and Vardiel. Beregond, as usual, stood near the wall to attend the king.

"So what do we actually know about this inn?" Elboron asked. "Is the ale any good?"

"If the ale was good enough for my father, it's definitely good enough for you," Melian said curtly.

"I assure you that the ale is quite good," Vardiel said. "My father took me there many times before he passed away. The Dunedain have excellent taste."

"Hear, hear!" Melian agreed.

"I do have a letter from Samwise to Father that tells us a bit more about it," Eldarion said. "If you're interested, that is."

"I wish that my father had saved all of his correspondence," Vardiel said. "I think it's fantastic that you can look back on King Elessar through the eyes of his friends."

"I've heard a number of these letters, Vardiel," Elboron began, "And I feel the same way. My father, Prince Faramir, wrote more poetry than letters. I promised my grandson, Theodred, that I would keep my letters for him."

"Did your mother write?" Vardiel asked.

"No," Elboron smiled sadly before perking up, "But she did kill the Witch-King of Angmar on the Pelennor."

Melian rolled her eyes. "Prince Elboron is quite adept at working that fact into conversation."

"Don't act like you aren't proud of your own lineage, my dear Lady Melian," Elboron said with a hint of venom.

"A letter from Sam?" Gilriel interjected. "Why don't you let me read it, Eldarion?"

_Always the peacekeeper_, Eldarion thought as he handed her the parchment.

_14 March, 1480_

_Bag End, Hobbiton_

_Dear Strider,_

_Merry and Pippin and I made our yearly excursion to the _Prancing Pony_ yesterday. I thought you would like to know that it is still very much unchanged. Nob and Bob are getting a bit stiff in the joints (just like all of us), but Bob's daughter Lalia is as quick as a whip, and she keeps the place moving. Mr. Butterbur would be proud, rest his soul. I'll never forget that rainy night when we met the ranger who looked foul but was fair. I was a fool to distrust you as quickly as I did, and that will forever be one of the mistakes I regret most in life. _

_On this visit, we commissioned a memorial of sorts to our first meeting. Pippin gave Bob the money to put up a plaque in the corner where you liked to sit with your pipe. Merry and Pippin argued about different inscriptions, but they eventually went with my idea, which is three, simple words. "Here Sat Strider." I don't expect that anyone other than you and the three of us will be able to make sense of it, but when we're all gone, it will still be there. _

_Rosie is starting to have a bit of trouble with her eyesight, and Frodo-lad has been helping her out around the house. I do what I can, but my knees are starting to go. Sometimes, I wonder how my Gaffer was able to keep gardening so late into his life. They really don't make them like him anymore. _

_Word has reached us in the Shire that Melian is getting married and moving to Annuminas. I know it can be hard to have a child move away. Rosie and I were very broken up when Elanor and Fastred moved to the Tower Hills, but I knew they would make a good life for themselves there. There is no doubt in my mind that your Melian and her husband will be just as happy and successful. If they wed in Annuminas, it would be wonderful if we could get the Fellowship back together. Bring Legolas and Gimli north, and I'll bring Merry and Pippin, and we'll laugh and drink and talk about old times. Maybe we can even visit the Prancing Pony together._

_Your old friend,_

_Sam_

"Legolas and Gimli were at my wedding, but I don't remember any of the hobbits being there, which was a shame," Melian said.

"I wonder if they were ever all together again," Vardiel said. "It seems strange that they met so rarely, given what they went through together."

"From the letters I have read, it doesn't seem like they were ever gathered in one place after Mother and Father were married," Eldarion said.

"That is sad," Vardiel frowned. "My father and the other surviving members of the Grey Company saw each other almost every day here in this city. They would ride up to Fornost and down to Weathertop and laugh and sing and tell stories and remember. There is nothing more precious than the memories we make with our loved ones."

"Hear, hear," Eldarion said, smiling at her.

"My king, it is getting late," Beregond said. "If we want to get an early start tomorrow, we should probably go to sleep."

"Your steward is quite right," Melian said. "Until the morning?"

"Goodnight, all," Eldarion said.

Melian and Gilriel exited arm-in-arm followed by Elboron and Beregond, as Elboron clapped a friendly hand on Beregond's shoulder. Vardiel stayed a moment to wish Eldarion pleasant dreams and departed with a smile.

* * *

Dawn broke over Fornost as the people, bundled against the January cold, lined the outskirts of the city, waiting to see their king ride across the plains. As if on cue, the thundering of hooves was heard as two knights bearing standards of the Reunited Kingdom rode up over the horizon. Between them rode King Eldarion with Lady Melian and Princess Gilriel. Just behind were Lord Ohtar, Prince Elboron, and Beregond the steward. The people cheered as the noble company galloped towards the North Downs, waving as they rode.

"Wonderful day for it!" Eldarion called to Melian.

"I still wish you had allowed us to bring more guards!" Melian hollered back. "Your safety is of the utmost importance. You should have brought Anduril."

"Anduril is locked safely in Minas Tirith," Eldarion said. "We are at peace. I have no need to wear a sword."

"Even so," Melian insisted, "It would excite your people to see the fabled blade of Elendil and Elessar."

Eldarion loved the feelings of the wind in his long hair as he careened across the North Downs. Elboron, letting his Rohirric heritage show, challenged Eldarion to a race, which he happily accepted, much to Melian and Ohtar's disapproval. Beregond and Gilriel simply laughted together as the King of the Reunited Kingdom and the Prince of Emyn Arnen chased each other across the frozen plains.

Within two hours, the company had reached the Greenway, which they rode down in a slower, more appropriate fashion. They passed a number of travelers along the way, most of whom cheered and wished the king and the regent well.

Before long, the town of Bree, surrounded by its hedged wall, rose to greet them in the south. The people had been informed of their coming, and the gates were wide open to greet King Eldarion.

Eldarion noted that this welcome had a different feeling from the ones he had previously received in Dol Amroth and Annuminas. Bree, though it fell within the borders of Arnor, existed very much in its own world. While the great northern and southern cities were reasonably accustomed to fine processions, this was a rare occurrence in Bree. People clapped and cheered but many people, especially children, were in complete awe of this royal visit.

Eldarion and his company rode up the hill to _The Prancing Pony_, where two figures stood on the steps. There was a tall man in a brown, fur cloak who wore an elaborate chain on the outside. On his left was a wizened, female hobbit wearing an apron and leaning on a cane.

"King Eldarion," the man said in a booming voice, "Welcome to Bree! My name is Bartemius Thistlewool, and I have the honor of serving as mayor of this town."

"Thank you, Mayor Thistlewool," Eldarion said, dismounting and shaking the mayor's hand. He looked down at the hobbit. "I don't suppose you are Lalia?"

Lalia looked like she was going to faint on the spot at being known to the king, but she tightened her grip on her cane and managed to stand a bit straighter. "I am, sir, and I am pleased to welcome you to _The Prancing Pony_."

"Samwise Gamgee once wrote to my father that you are the one who keeps things moving around here."

Lalia blushed, and those assembled, including Mayor Thistlewool, laughed heartily. "I do the best I can, sir," she said simply before going to the door and holding it open for Eldarion.

The patrons, men and hobbits, looked at the fine company with wonderment for a moment before going back to their drinks and conversations.

"That's a bit refreshing," Eldarion said, turning to Beregond.

Beregond's eyes pored over the walls. "I'm looking for your father's plaque, my king."

"There!" Elboron shouted, pointing to the northwest corner of the room.

Everyone hurried over to see a slightly tarnished, brass plaque with the inscription:

**HERE SAT STRIDER**

"Old Mr. Sam would have been happy to know that you saw this here," said Lalia, hobbling over.

"Thank you for maintaining this," Eldarion said. "It means a lot to my family."

Lalia smiled. "Your father's recommendation from when I was just a little girl has kept us in business! It's really the least I can do."

"Did you know Butterbur?" Melian asked.

"He was like a grandfather to me," Lalia said. "I grew up at this inn, and it has been my life's work. I can't imagine where I would be if Mr. Butterbur hadn't opened this inn as a young man."

"It has been the site of some important events," Beregond said.

"Madam Lalia," said Elboron is a loud voice that caused the patrons to look in their direction. "In honor of King Elessar and the hobbits of the Fellowship, I would like to purchase a round of your finest ale for the house!"

The patrons cheered and toasted Elboron, Elessar, and the hobbits.

"Right away, sir," Lalia grinned, motioning to her employees to start filling mugs.

"I can't say this place is very grand," Ohtar said once Lalia was out of earshot.

"It's not," Gilriel said. "But it feels like Father."

"It certainly does," Eldarion said. "I can just picture him with a plate of sausage and potatoes, a mug of ale, and a pipe getting out of the wilderness on a cold night.

The three siblings smiled as they imagined their father walking around the warmly lit room. A waiter came and placed five mugs of ale on their table. Eldarion wondered where the sixth was, and he quickly realized that Elboron had migrated to the bar, where he was talking with the patrons.

"Typical," Melian said to Ohtar. "He'll want to sing next."

"Oh, they sing all the time in here," Lalia said, leaning on a pillar near the table. "It's been that way since before I was born. My father told me about the time that Frodo Baggins, the Ringbearer, sang on that very table before disappearing."

"That was the night that our father met the hobbits," Eldarion said. "A very important night for the whole world."

Lalia shrugged. "All I know is that some men dressed in black came in and completely destroyed one of the hobbit-rooms that night. I wonder what ever became of them."

"Their leader was slain by the mother of that loud man at the bar," Melian said, pointing to Elboron who was gaily laughing and carousing with the other patrons.

"I thought you were sick of hearing that story," Gilriel said.

"Only when he is using it to self-aggrandize," Melian replied. "Oh, for goodness' sake!"

Elboron had climbed on the counter and began to sing some old drinking songs that Pippin had taught him.

"Imagine what his grandfather Denethor would think," Eldarion whispered to Melian and Ohtar. They looked at each other with wide eyes before bursting into quiet laughter.

* * *

After about an hour-and-a-half of sightseeing, Ohtar asked if the company could ride west to the barrows. When Eldarion agreed, they went to retrieve their horses from the stables at the Prancing Pony. Lalia came out to say goodbye and they all thanked her one last time before riding down the hill and out of the western gate.

There was a tall line of hills in sight of Bree with a thin path leading up into them. The company trotted slowly up the frozen path until they crested over a hill that looked down onto many mounds marked with upright stones. A low fog hung over the icy grass, and an uneasy feeling crept into all of their hearts. Eldarion wished that he had brought Anduril north.

"Fascinating," Ohtar said, enraptured at the sight. "I heard that the Witch-King raised the dead who were buried here to suit his dark purposes." He began to walk down the hill and observe the mounds, where stones stuck out of the ground like grinning, broken teeth.

Melian, similarly fascinated with the historical sight, went to join her son.

"I'm not getting any closer," Gilriel said.

"Agreed," Elboron added. "This place has a real Minas Morgul feel about it."

Eldarion felt what Elboron meant. Even looking at the barrows caused his heart and his feet to feel heavy. Nevertheless, he felt some inexplicable force drawing him down into the valley.

"Beregond, stay here with these two and the guards," Eldarion said. "I want to take a look around myself."

Beregond nodded, grateful that he didn't have to join his king on these dreaded grounds.

Eldarion passed by Melian and Ohtar, who were looking at stones to find inscriptions and determine the dates that each barrow was created, and he walked further westward into the fog.

A sleepy feeling began to come over him as his eyelids drooped. He found a grassy spot to sit for a spell and began to doze off. When he lifted his heavy head to see where Melian and Ohtar were, he saw only fog.

Suddenly alarmed, Eldarion stood, looking from side to side in fear and frustration. He knew in his heart that he never should have come here, making a mental note never to indulge his nephew's morbid curiosity again.

"You picked a strange day for a walk friend," came a chiding but merry voice.

"I suppose it isn't ideal, no," Eldarion said, on his guard.

Out of the fog in front of him came a short, round, oddly dressed man. He wore red trousers, a bright blue jacket that matched the feather in his cap, and yellow boots. He had a bushy, brown beard, and his eyes shone bright blue, even in the dim fog. "What is a young man like yourself doing walking amongst the dead in the cold of winter?"

"My name is Eldarion son of Elessar. My family and I are visiting places that my father and his friends saw."

The man gave a playful, cartoonish frown. "There might be some places that your father and his friends went that you shouldn't follow. I doubt they would want you to be here."

"You're probably right," Eldarion said. "That doesn't explain what you are doing here."

"You're right about that," said the man with a twinkle in his eye. "Your family is that way." The strange man pointed to his left, and as if by magic, the fog began to clear enough for Eldarion to see where Gilriel, Elboron, and Beregond were waiting. "Now go find a merry hearth and get out of this cold, and stay out of dark places like these old barrows, or else your heart will be as cold as those stones. Smile in the sunlight and beware haunted ruins and dark trees."

"Thank you, friend," Eldarion said, but the man was already walking into the fog towards the west, bouncing with every other step and humming a merry tune to himself. He himself turned and went to join the rest of his party.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter of Dear Strider! If so, please follow, favorite, and review! Thank you for reading!


	10. The Banks of the Brandywine and Aragorn

Dear Strider, Chapter Ten

Eldarion and company visit the borders of the Shire where Melian has prepared a special surprise.

Author's Note: Thank you for the very kind reviews I have been receiving! I am grateful for your kind words, and I will continue to strive to produce writing that is worthy of them. As for the last chapter, I hope that you enjoyed the Bombadil cameo. Eldarion would not necessarily be informed about Tom Bombadil, so I don't believe that he would recognize him in any sense. This will be the next to last chapter before things go south again, and it's an image that helped me come up with the idea for this story. I hope that you enjoy the execution of that vision. Thank you again for reading!

* * *

Eldarion, his sisters and nephew, Elboron, Beregond, and their two guards rode slowly westward on the Great East Road. The sun had begun to poke through the clouds, but the frozen ground was absorbing no warmth.

"Are you alright, my king?" Beregond asked. Eldarion had been shivering since the party had taken leave of the Barrow-Downs.

"I'm bearing up," Eldarion said. "My bones themselves feel cold. It's almost not worth seeing the Shire." He thought of the words of that strange man from the Barrow-Downs, and longed for a warm hearth.

Lady Melian trotted up to Eldarion on her horse. "I promise, it will be worth it to see the Shire." She smiled knowingly to herself. "Don't tell me you were spooked by the Barrow-Downs, Eldarion."

"I felt very uneasy there," he said. "I don't understand your son's fascination. Findegil told me that he wants to explore the ruins of Minas Morgul as well."

Melian glanced back at Ohtar, who was deep in discussion with his Aunt Gilriel, and turned to her brother. "Ohtar is obsessed with Angmar," she said in hushed tones. "Eradan raised him on stories of the wars of the Dunedain in the North, and of course, the Witch-King figures heavily in some of them. At first, I encouraged him because I thought we could connect over our passion for history, but now I wonder if I was right to do so. I've considered sending him south for a longer period with you. He is a competent man, and he is utterly dedicated to the will of the kingdom. I think it would be therapeutic for him to spend time in Gondor, if not with you, then with Adrahil in Dol Amroth or Lord Belecthor in Pelargir. I want my son to focus on light, life, and the future of men, not on studying the devices of their ancient enemies."

Eldarion glanced back at his nephew, considering his sister's idea. Adrahil and Gilriel would be very welcoming to their nephew, and Belecthor would prove an entertaining host, but he knew that his nephew would want a purpose and a task. Also, it would prove a better way to distract him from the shadows of the past. "When we ride south, he is welcome to join me. He can stay with me at Minas Tirith until I find a task for him. Your son, like you, will not want to be idle."

Melian smiled at that. "Thank you, brother. We should be getting close to the Brandywine River. It's clear enough that we should have a good view of the Eastfarthing of the Shire."

Within the next hour, the party noticed the dark forest to their left becoming less dense and saw chimney smoke from a nearby settlement rising further west.

A horn suddenly sounded, and Eldarion looked around in alarm before realizing one of Melian's guardsmen had blown it.

In the west an answering horn returned to the call.

"What's all this?" Eldarion asked, whirling to face his sister in his saddle.

Melian smiled more broadly than he could ever remember her smiling. "Just wait and see."

Three ponies came galloping down the road from the west, and on them sat three hobbits. They wore green caps with long, yellow feathers poking out of their ribands.

Melian rode forward. "Good afternoon, Shirriff."

The center rider gave a polite bow from his saddle. "Good day, Lady Melian. All is prepared, if you would just follow us."

"Thank you, my good hobbit," said the regent, motioning for the rest of the party to trot behind them.

Eldarion fell back to Gilriel's position. "Do you know what's happening?"

"I'm as much in the dark as you are," Gilriel said.

They looked over to see their nephew smiling and looking at them expectantly.

"He clearly does," Elboron said. "Eldarion, if your sister is planning to make us sit through a historical lecture concerning hobbits and the Shire in this cold…"

The party reached a large and well-appointed tent. They looked and saw the Brandywine Bridge just ahead. It seemed that Melian had planned some sort of dinner on the banks of the Brandywine.

Melian's guardsmen took their post on the sides of the tent entrance, and the Regent of Arnor, clad in her white furs, entered the tent, once again beckoning for the others to follow.

Eldarion entered the pleasantly warm tent and first noticed a large, round table filled with a hearty feast of roasted chicken and vegetables. He looked to the end of the table and saw Melian approaching three hobbits. There was an elderly-looking couple and a younger hobbit who looked to be in his forties.

"Thain Faramir, it is a delight to see you again," Melian greeted the elder at the head of the table.

"The delight is all mine, Lady Melian. It has been far too long," Thain Faramir said, rising from his seat and kissing her hand.

Melian turned to address the party. "This is my surprise for all of you. We are dining this evening with three individuals I know you are all longing to meet. Thain Faramir, this is my brother Eldarion, King of the Reunited Kingdom, my sister Gilriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, Beregond son of Bergil, Steward to the King, my son Ohtar son of Eradan, and Prince Elboron of Emyn Arnen. Allow me to introduce Thain Faramir Took, son of Peregrin Took, his lovely wife Goldilocks, daughter of Samwise Gamgee, and Bilbo Brandybuck, grandson of Meriadoc Brandybuck and Heir to Brandy Hall."

Eldarion's eyes went wide with joy and wonder and he rushed forward to shake the hands of their hosts. "It is such a pleasure to meet all of you!"

"Consider this the first meeting of the Children of the Fellowship," Bilbo Brandybuck joked, earning a chuckle from the other two hobbits.

The party processed through and greeted each of the three hobbits before sitting down at the (generously human-sized) chairs around the table.

"So," Faramir began, "I'm named after your father," he smiled at Elboron.

Elboron grinned in response. "When my father found out that Pippin had named you after him, he said it was the greatest honor that could possibly been bestowed on him. Then my mother asked if it was a greater honor than her agreeing to marry him."

"My grandfather always said that Lady Eowyn was fierce and formidable," Bilbo said.

"She was, occasionally," Elboron said, "But I always remember her as being gentle."

"We have much to reminisce about, no doubt," Goldilocks said, "But let's get dinner started. It has been a good year for potatoes, so we have quite a bit of that. I prepared them three different ways, because I didn't know what you like. Some are boiled, some are mashed, and some are in that stew further down the table." She began passing bowls around the table for everyone to serve themselves.

"I heard from my grandfather that hobbits have a great passion for food," Beregond said.

"Remind me who your father was again?" Faramir asked. "I'm eleventy-one this year, and my memory is not what it once was."

"My father knew yours, as did my grandfather," Beregond said. "I am named after my grandfather Beregond, Guard of the Citadel and later guard to Prince Faramir."

"Oh, yes!" Thain Faramir exclaimed. "I grew up listening to stories of your grandfather saving Prince Faramir from that nasty business in the Silent Street. Is your father well?"

Beregond was floored that people in such a faraway land told stories of his grandfather. "He is, thank you. He's getting on in years, but he lives happily with my mother in Emyn Arnen."

"And yet you went to serve the king in Minas Tirith?" Bilbo asked. "I suppose the citadel is in your blood."

"I suppose so," Beregond smiled.

"I must say," Eldarion remarked, "In the nine months since our father died, we have been reading a lot of letters that the members of the Fellowship wrote to him. I'm glad to think they all tried to keep in touch. We just came from _The Prancing Pony_, where they were all fond of going."

"Ah, yes," Faramir smiled. "Lalia's the best. My father said it was always cleaner after she took over."

"King Eldarion," Goldilocks began, "Lady Melian informed us about all of the letters that you have found, so I brought something special here today." She reached into a bag behind her chair and pulled out a weathered piece of parchment.

Eldarion looked from his sisters to Beregond in excitement. "A letter from my father?"

Goldilocks looked at her husband as they beamed at each other. "Indeed. My father always kept this in the pocket of his best waistcoat for good luck, and he gave it to me before he went west."

Goldilocks unfolded the parchment and began to read.

_15 August, Year 34 of the Fourth Age (or 1455, by your reckoning)_

_Minas Tirith, Gondor_

_Dear Sam,_

_Thank you for your letter! Has it really been twelve years? You may be right about time flying when you are busy, but you know that you and the other members of the Fellowship are in my heart and mind every single day. Arwen and I are grateful for your well-wishes about Eldarion! I can already tell he will have a bright mind. His eyes are bright and curious whenever he looks around. I can't wait until he begins to speak so that I can have conversations with my son. I wish that you could be here to see him. So far, his features resemble me more than they resemble Arwen, which she says is good, if he is to be king. _

_We see Faramir and Eowyn as much as possible. While our son is peaceful, their son, Elboron, is quite the rowdy two-year-old. Faramir says he looks like Boromir, and I'm glad, for as he grows, we can look at him and remember our friend, much as I imagine you can with your son Frodo._

_I'm glad that I can write to you, Merry, Pippin, Legolas, and Gimli and keep you all updated. It saddens me that my son will never be able to meet Frodo or Gandalf or Elrond or Galadriel, but I like to think that somehow, they are watching over Eldarion. I am not as good a storyteller as Gandalf was, but I hope I will be able to pass our experiences onto him as much as you responsible hobbits and Pippin (I jest). _

_Thank you for telling me about Barliman's passing. I will send a letter with my sympathies to Nob and Bob. You're right- The Prancing Pony is an important place in all of our history. I remember that stalwart, young hobbit who was so protective of his master, and whenever I hear music and laughter in the streets of Minas Tirith, I know that if it weren't for that bond and that amazing help, there might not be a Minas Tirith left to us. _

_I don't know when I'll be in Annuminas yet, as I am overseeing negotiations with Rhun for the foreseeable future, but the next time I come north, we will see each other._

_Your old friend,_

_Strider_

"Well, Elboron," Eldarion said, "I guess you've always been the way you are."

Elboron laughed, and Melian rolled her eyes.

"Thank you, Goldilocks," said Gilriel. "I can't tell you how much it means that you shared that letter with us."

"It was really nothing," Goldilocks said, folding the letter and putting it back in her bag. "I know that Faramir and I both wish that we had been able to get to know Aragorn, or King Elessar, rather."

"I feel the same way about Samwise," Eldarion said. "I knew Merry and Pippin well. They lived with us in Gondor in the final years of their lives. They told so many stories about him that I've always thought of him as a great hero."

Goldilocks laughed and smiled. "Samwise Gamgee was a good hobbit. He led a simple life. He was mayor, but he was never grand. He had a kind word for everyone, with the possible exception of Old Ted Sandyman. I think he was far more proud of his gardening and cooking accomplishments than he was with his role in the War of the Ring."

"If I may, dear," Faramir said, "I think that's what made Mr. Sam so great. He didn't parade his great deeds around. I don't think many people knew about them beyond the Battle of Bywater. He just made the Shire and everyone in it feel loved and valued."

"He was a great example for others in positions of leadership, begging your pardons," Bilbo said to the grand folk around the table.

"Quite so," Melian said, prompting Elboron to quietly scoff.

The hobbits and Eldarion's party spoke until sundown, laughing, remembering, and comparing stories that their parents had told them. When the sun grew heavy in the sky, Melian announced that it was time for the party to mount up for a fast, evening gallop back to the town of Trestlebridge in the North Downs, where she had prepared accommodations for them all.

Eldarion hung back to talk to the hobbits.

"I am so glad that I got to meet you all," he said.

Goldilocks placed her small hands around his large one. "We're all family, Eldarion. You know that we all wish you well."

"Your father was a great man, and I know you will follow in his footsteps," Faramir added, patting Eldarion on the arm.

"Let us know if you come north again," Bilbo said. "Maybe we can meet up at _The Prancing Pony_. Best ale besides _The Green Dragon_, if you ask me."

"I certainly will," Eldarion said. "Goodbye for now."

The three hobbits waved as he left the tent to join the party again.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter of _Dear Strider_. If so, please follow, favorite, and review!


	11. The Departure and Legolas

Dear Strider, Chapter Eleven

Eldarion and his retinue prepare to ride south to Minas Tirith, and there is some discussion as to who should join them. Eldarion receives an unexpected letter.

Author's Note: And so, in this chapter, we take our leave of Annuminas and Melian. She has been far and away one of my favorite characters to write for this story. She may be cold and stern at times, but deep down, she loves her family dearly. I have enjoyed portraying some of her softer moments. If you have made it this far into this story, I thank you for your kindness and patience, and I hope that you will enjoy this latest chapter.

* * *

Lady Melian's chambers glowed with firelight from the hearth and from several candelabras around the room. Melian herself sat in a sturdy wooden chair, steepling her fingers as she considered her two companions. Lady Vardiel was sitting on a more cushioned armchair about ten feet away, and Princess Gilriel reclined on Melian's bed.

"I think it would be a wonderful experience for you to ride south with Eldarion," Melian said.

Vardiel frowned and narrowed her eyes. "Have I done something to you that you are trying to send me from your court?"

Melian gave an almost imperceptible sigh while maintaining her rigid posture. "Would I hesitate to tell you if I was displeased with you?"

"My sister has a point," Gilriel said from the bed.

"About her belief that I should go south? Or that she would not hold back her grievances?"

"Correct on both counts," Gilriel said. "You could come and stay with Adrahil and me in Dol Amroth. You yourself said you wanted more confectionaries, and my husband is famous for his love of sweets."

Vardiel considered this. "I don't want to be a burden to anyone."

"You wouldn't be!" Gilriel assured her, sitting up. "I know my brother would love to have you ride south with us! You can discuss the early adventures of Aragorn and Radanir. That would please you both."

"Think of it as being an ambassador from Arnor," Melian said. "Meet lots of people and do good work to assure the Gondorians of our kinship. I can think of no more honorable duty for you."

Vardiel paused and contemplated this. "I'll think it over, but I am going to my chamber for now. Goodnight."

When Vardiel had left, Melian turned towards Gilriel. "She would never neglect any duty. She will ride south."

Gilriel smiled mischievously. "And then our plan can take shape. You were wise to begin sowing the seeds when we arrived for Annuminas."

Melian shrugged. "I think it would be a good thing. They have a lot in common. I think they would be happy."

Gilriel nodded. "From a political standpoint, it would send the right message to Arnor. What better way to show that we are one, Reunited Kingdom?" She rose from the bed, kissing her sister on the cheek before leaving for bed herself.

"What a reversal," Melian said as Gilriel reached the door. "Who ever thought that I would be the one making the emotional appeal while you concentrated on politics?"

Gilriel grinned. "Mother would be proud of us."

"I guess we finally understand each other completely," Melian said, as her sister left the room.

Smiling, she reached for the parchment that contained the latest renovation report from Fornost.

* * *

The Archives of Annuminas bustled with quiet activity as scholars retrieved, returned, and organized their scrolls. Beregond strode through the wide hall with interest. He had never been overtly scholarly, but he respected those with the patience and willpower to decipher old scrolls, strange languages, and ancient texts. He was looking for one such individual, and he found him at a table towards the back of the hall.

Findegil sat at a large table covered with scrolls and tomes. There were a few candlesticks to provide light for his reading, a loaf of bread (approaching staleness), and a pitcher of water. Findegil looked tired, but his blue eyes twinkled as he pored over line after line of text.

"Good morning, my friend," Beregond said, causing Findegil to jump.

"Beregond!" Findegil replied with the rasp of a person who hasn't spoken in a while. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than you, evidently," Beregond said. "What are you reading?"

"A written history of the Chieftans of the Dunedain," Findegil said. "It's fascinating how, even though they lost their keeps and cities, Elendil's descendants in the north still managed to order their people."

"Not all who wander are lost," Beregond recited from memory. "Are you ready to leave this evening?"

Findegil frowned. "I will be. There is so much still to learn in this place."

"No doubt," Beregond said. "I brought you a gift." He placed a small, furled scroll in front of the Chief Loremaster. "While we were exploring the north, I had occasion to meet a fine hobbit named Bilbo Brandybuck, the grandson of Meriadoc."

"Of the Fellowship?" Findegil asked with wonder.

"The same," Beregond replied. "I told him about your interest in history, and he is willing to write back and forth with you so that you can gain more knowledge of the hobbits of the Shire and their history."

Findegil leapt from the table and threw his arms around Beregond, surprising the steward. "This is the nicest gift that anyone has ever given me! Thank you, Beregond, my friend! I look forward to contacting Bilbo!"

"I'm glad," replied a wide-eyed, still-startled Beregond, breaking the embrace. "I suppose I will leave you to your reading until it is closer to time for us to depart."

Findegil smiled and went back to his reading. Beregond walked from the archives, slowly shaking his head.

* * *

King Eldarion, Lady Melian, Princess Gilriel, and Lady Vardiel sat alone in the audience chamber of Ost Elendil. Elboron and Adrahil were visiting the taverns and inns around the city one last time, and Ohtar was spending a few hours with his friends before he rode south to stay with Eldarion. The members of the court has just come to give their formal goodbyes to the southerners before they rode away.

"It seems to me that you will be greatly missed in Annuminas, Vardiel," Eldarion said.

"I shall greatly miss Annuminas myself," Vardiel said, "But I look forward to spending more time with our friends in the south."

Eldarion smiled. "It will be our pleasure. I know you intend to stay in Dol Amroth, but I hope you will visit me in Minas Tirith often."

"I should like that very much," Vardiel said.

Melian and Gilriel shared a glance.

"When we go down, why don't you go to Minas Tirith first?" Gilriel said. "It's the first stop, and that would give me much more time to prepare for your stay with us."

"I don't want to put Eldarion to any trouble," Vardiel said. "The king is likely to have enough on his mind without entertaining a guest."

"It wouldn't be any trouble," Eldarion said.

"Ohtar is staying with Eldarion," Melian added. "It would be nice for him to have a friendly, northern face to help him adjust to life in Gondor."

Vardiel looked at the three siblings, who all looked imploringly back at her. "It would be nice to get to know the City of Kings."

"It's settled then," Melian said. "Eldarion, you will find that Vardiel is quite a pleasant guest. I invite her to stay with me often."

The door at the far end of the chamber opened, and a servant hustled up to Eldarion with an envelope in hand.

"My king, there is a letter for you," he said.

"Thank you," Eldarion said, taking the envelope. The servant sped from the chamber as quickly as he had appeared.

"Well?" Melian gestured to the letter.

Eldarion opened the envelope and began to read aloud.

_2 January, Year 120 F.A._

_Felegoth, Eryn Lasgalen_

_Mae g'ovannen, Eldarion,_

_I hope that you enjoyed spending Yule with your sister in Annuminas. I hope that this letter reaches you before you ride south, or it will be very inconvenient for the messenger. _

_I wanted to tell you that I am about to wander eastward into Rhun with some of my elves to settle a trade dispute with the Easterlings. I will spare you the details. When I am finished, I am hoping to be in Ithilien in the spring. You and Elboron can look for my coming after spring thaws the ground. _

_It grieves my heart to be living in a world without Aragorn son of Arathorn, but I know that you, his worthy heir, will prove to be a great success as king. _

_N'i lu tol. _

_Legolas Thranduilion _

"Now we have something to look forward to this spring!" Gilriel exclaimed. "Legolas and Gimli are the only two left outside of the family who really knew Father. Imagine the discussions we can have! Melian, is it enough to tempt you to come south?"

"Unfortunately no," Melian said. "Our excavations and restorations become busier once the ground isn't so hard. I will need to be here to assist and oversee our work."

"You will be missed, sister," Gilriel said.

Melian smiled. "Think of Vardiel as my proxy in the south. Now, before it gets too late, there was a book that I wanted to show you, Gilriel."

Gilriel and Melian very quickly went through a side door, leaving Eldarion and Vardiel alone together. Vardiel smiled and raised her eyebrows at the king.

"I hope you don't feel my sisters and I have bullied you into coming south," Eldarion said.

Vardiel laughed. "When Lady Melian, Regent of Arnor, is your closest friend, you get used to following her suggestions. It's not always worth the trouble of declining. I know that she made a similar proposition that brought you up here for Yule."

"It was hard to argue with her reasoning," Eldarion said.

"It usually is," Vardiel said, "But you are the king. You're the one in charge. I hope I'm not being too forward."

Eldarion laughed. "Not at all. My father was a kind ruler, but he was also very deliberate."

"It can be hard to draw the line between those two personas," Vardiel mused.

"My thoughts exactly," Eldarion said. "It has been my biggest struggle as king, especially when you have southern lords and northern sisters who are so precise and particular. But if I'm going to deal with them with more Well, as your king, if you don't want to join me at Minas Tirith, I understand."

A moment of quiet understanding passed between the two of them, and Vardiel's eyes twinkled.

"I would be very happy to join you in Minas Tirith, Eldarion." She gave him a short but intense smile.

"Good," Eldarion said, not knowing what else to say. His cheeks felt slightly hot. "Well, then… You no doubt have many preparations to make for the journey, so… I'll see you when we're ready to ride."

Eldarion ran to find his sisters.

* * *

"Are you ready to return to the palace, Adrahil?" Elboron asked his friend.

"I believe so," Adrahil, quite recovered from his cold, said, motioning to his two guards, both of whom currently resembling pack mules laden with sweets than Swan Knights. "I probably could have put in an order for these to be delivered and put on the supply wagon, but I couldn't resist saying goodbye to all of the kind bakers of Annuminas."

"You certainly did quite a bit to keep them in business," Elboron chuckled. "My ale barrels are already there. I'm bringing them as late Yule gifts to Barahir."

"Your son is lucky to have such a generous father," Adrahil remarked.

Elboron shrugged. "I do my best to keep him entertained. I didn't want him to grow up boring and superior like Melian's son. You know she's sending him south, right?"

Adrahil nodded. "My understanding is that he will be in Minas Tirith with Eldarion."

Elboron rolled his eyes. "That will make him even grander. Belecthor can be pompous, but he can be put in his place. Speaking of which, I heard from the servants that Beregond received another letter from Lady Firiel."

"Belecthor should be ecstatic that his sister is taken with such a noble man," Adrahil said. "I've always been fond of Beregond, and King Elessar was as well."

"He comes from good stock," Elboron said. "We'll see if it's good enough stock for the Lord of Pelargir."

* * *

Ohtar managed to limit his chosen possessions to two chests which would be placed in one of the supply wagons. He stood alone in the square of Tyl Annun, looking up at his home, Ost Elendil. He knew he would return someday, but it pained him to think of all of the memories he would be leaving up north. His father had taught him to ride in this very square, and his mother would read to him in the high chambers overlooking Lake Evendim (until he could read, which is when Melian would have him read aloud instead).

"My son," came his mother's voice from behind him. Melian stood there in her white fur, no doubt waiting for the others to assemble and leave. "Reminiscing?"

"Just like you always taught me," Ohtar said. "I shall miss you, Mother."

"And I shall miss you, Ohtar," Melian said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "You know I'm only a letter away. I will write to you often and tell you about our findings in the Lone-lands. You could share them with Loremaster Findegil. Eldarion and Beregond have both praised his skills and interest to me."

"I don't think that the loremaster cares for me much," Ohtar replied. "He shut down when I asked him about Minas Morgul."

Melian frowned. "Take this opportunity to get away from the ruins and experience what is happening with the living. Be present at court. Help your uncle. Visit your aunt in Dol Amroth. Keep Vardiel company. Keep Elboron under control."

Ohtar smiled. "All but the last one sound like feasible options."

Melian stood on her tiptoes to kiss her son on the cheek. "Know that I love you and that home will always be waiting for you."

Ohtar took his mother's hand and kissed it. "Thank you, Mother. I love you too."

Eldarion's party was assembled and ready to ride south. He sent his scouts ahead of him, the fastest bearing a message for Lord Belecthor announcing his return. Just as when they arrived, the Court of Annuminas has assembled to wish the king and his companions well.

Everyone said goodbye to Melian before going to mount their horses. Gilriel and Adrahil both embraced her warmly, and Gilriel promised to write. Vardiel kissed her hand respectfully. Beregond and Findegil gave small, respectful bows, which Melian returned with a nod and a smile.

"Thank you for having me to stay, Melian," Elboron said to her quietly. "It must have been quite a sacrifice on your part."

"It was," Melian said coldly, "But all the same, I hope that you enjoyed your time here. Ride safely south, and I wish you well."

Elboron nodded with a tentative smile and walked down the steps of Ost Elendil before Melian could think up something more scathing to say.

At long last, Eldarion came through the doors to cheers from the court. He came level with his sister and turned to face her. "I will tell the lords of Gondor that Arnor is still in the best of hands under my noble sister."

Melian smiled. "Not that any of them will believe you. I fear I will always be the icy, northern regent in their eyes."

"You are not that to me," he said. "I am so glad that you invited us. Ohtar will be well-looked-after in Minas Tirith."

"See that Vardiel is well-looked-after." Melian's ice-blue eyes gleamed.

Eldarion looked down at Vardiel who was waiting on her horse. "Don't think that I am not aware of your scheme, Melian."

"I have no idea as to what you are referring," the regent declared in a stately manner. Then, more softly, "I will miss you, brother."

"I wish you were coming south," Eldarion said.

Melian took a look around, looking from the assembled Dunedain lords and ladies, the palace of Ost Elendil, and the rest of Annuminas in the south. "My place is here, as it has always been." She kissed her brother on the cheek and gestured down to his waiting horse.

"We are ready, my king," Beregond said from horseback.

"Very well, then," Eldarion said. "To Minas Tirith!"

They rode through the square of Tyl Annun, calling farewells to those present. Even the guards at the gate smiled and waved politely.

As Eldarion rode onto the bridge that led down into the rest of the city, he looked over his shoulder to see Lady Melian on the steps of Ost Elendil. She held one, steady arm into the air, her palm open to her brother as a sign of parting.

* * *

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter of _Dear Strider_. If so, please follow, favorite, and review! Thank you for reading!


	12. Storms in the South and Pippin

Dear Strider, Chapter Twelve

Eldarion returns home to Minas Tirith to discover that there is unrest in Umbar. Beregond and Firiel reunite. Pippin writes to Aragorn asking to come and stay in Gondor.

Author's Note: We are back in Minas Tirith, and even though it's still winter in Middle-Earth, things are heating up. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

* * *

It was a chilly morning. The frozen stones on the road chattered as the horses galloped down the Pelennor Road to Minas Tirith. Eldarion saw that the gates already stood open, and he felt great relief at being home. Riding on either side of him were Beregond and Findegil, both quietly taking in the spectacle of their White City. Gilriel and Adrahil had taken the road to Osgiliath to take a ship down the Anduin to Dol Amroth, and Elboron had shared their road as he departed for Ithilien. That left Ohtar and Lady Vardiel in the procession.

"Have you ever seen Minas Tirith?" Ohtar asked.  
"I have not," Vardiel said. "My father always said it was breathtaking, and I believe his description holds up."

"Just wait until you see the Citadel," Ohtar said. "You can see for leagues north, south, and east."

Eldarion had not expected a large gathering to witness his return, as there was no feast or observance, but he had forgotten who he left in charge of the city. Many citizens had lined the streets, waving small banners of the white tree on a sable field. He rode quickly through the crowds, smiling at his people as he rode, until, after what felt like a very long time, he reached the Citadel in the Seventh Circle of Minas Tirith.

The Citadel Guard, in full regalia, lined the path to Tower Hall, and at the foot of the stairs stood his councilors. Lord Belecthor, wearing his customary red robes, stood at the center. Towards the end of the line stood his sister, Lady Firiel, wearing a simple dress made of the same crimson material.

"My king," Belecthor bowed low, green eyes glittering. "We are honored to be able to greet your return from Arnor."

"Well met, Belecthor," Eldarion said, suppressing a laugh and extending his hand to shake. "Thank you for keeping watch while I was away. I assure you that the greeting was not necessary."

Belecthor waved the comment away. "I had my people in Pelargir sew the banners for the citizens. Everyone should be able to show some pride in their country."

"I don't disagree with you there," Beregond said. "How are you, Belecthor?"

Belecthor didn't even wince at Beregond dropping the "Lord" before his name. "Quite well, thank you Beregond. It is good to see you looking well."

"Members of my council," Eldarion said, "Allow me to present my nephew, Lord Ohtar, son of Eradan, who will be staying with me for the foreseeable future. We are also joined by Lady Vardiel of Arnor, the daughter of the ranger Radanir who fought with my father King Elessar at Pelargir, the Pelennor, and the Morannon."

The council members all showed signs of greeting. When the formalities concluded, Beregond approached Firiel. "Bright red? That's not like you."

Firiel laughed. "I wanted you to be able to pick me out from the crowd."

"As if I would need help," Beregond replied smoothly, earning him a kiss on the cheek. "Is this our Chief Loremaster?"

Findegil had been standing nearby, and he approached the pair. "An honor to meet you Lady Firiel."

"The honor is all mine," Firiel said. "Beregond has told me all about you in his letters. I'm glad to think we have such a vivacious new leader for the archives. Is it true that you went two nights without sleep while you were reading in Annuminas?"

Findegil looked at Beregond reproachfully. "Yes, my lady."

"He was so tired that he almost fell off of his horse around the Gap of Rohan," Beregond said, causing Firiel to laugh.

Several yards away, Eldarion had introduced Belecthor to Vardiel.

"My people owe your father a debt for aiding us against the Corsairs," Belecthor said.

"My father told me that your people were quite valiant in the fight," Vardiel replied.

"Be careful giving him compliments," Eldarion laughed. "Belecthor is quite susceptible to them."

"I usually am, my king," he admitted, "But today, we have more pressing business to discuss. We must convene the council."

"Can it wait until I have a chance to settle my guests in?" Eldarion asked.

"I wish that it could," Belecthor said, uncharacteristically grim. "If you direct Lady Vardiel and Lord Ohtar to your household staff, Beregond and I will get everyone together."

"Very well," Eldarion said.

"The busy life of a king?" Vardiel asked.

"Apparently so," Eldarion responded. "Let me introduce you to the head of my household, and he will show you and Ohtar to your dwellings."

* * *

About half-an-hour later, Eldarion, wearing a fresh doublet, strode into the council chamber of Tower Hall, where his councilors looked at him expectantly. He looked at Beregond and saw that he had adopted Belecthor's grim countenance. Findegil looked much the same.

Eldarion sat at the head of the table.

"My king," Belecthor began, looking uneasy. "On behalf of the council, we hope that you had a pleasant and relaxing trip in Annumi-"

"Just show him the letter," Beregond cut him off.

Belecthor sighed and handed Eldarion a folded piece of beige parchment.

Eldarion began to read aloud.

_5 January, Year 120 of the Fourth Age_

_Citadel of Umbar, Gondor_

_King Eldarion,_

_I am writing this letter to inform you of recent unrest that we have been experiencing in Umbar. A group of troublesome rebels have begun to grow in number. These rebels cry out for an Umbar that is independent of a kingdom that hates and scorns them. This group has not demonstrated violent tendencies, but their message is gaining traction among the people, and I, in good faith, wanted to inform you._

_Rest assured that I am bound, as ever, by my oath, and I will not allow any harm to come the Reunited Kingdom as a result of these renegades. I would ask to be allowed to deal with this situation myself without interference from the crown, as Gondorian soldiers in the streets of Umbar would only exacerbate the problem._

_If there is cause for me to do so, I will contact you again._

_Signed,_

_Gimilkhor_

_Lord of Umbar_

"Fascinating that he doesn't name his father in that greeting," Findegil said.

"Gimilkhor prefers to downplay his lineage outside of his island," Belecthor responded. "His grandfather was a mighty corsair warlord who fought for Sauron in the War of the Ring."

"I'm not interested in who Gimilkhor's grandfather is," Eldarion snapped, standing at his place at the table. "How did we not see this coming?" He looked at Belecthor accusingly.

"My k-king," Belecthor stammered, "This letter only arrived yesterday. There had been no word out of Umbar before this missive."

"It was our policy," Beregond chimed in, "To wait for spring until making sure that Umbar would fall in step with the rest of Gondor. We may have been misguided in this."

"I personally attempted to extend an olive branch to Gimilkhor after what happened on Frodo Baggins' birthday," Belecthor said.

"With respect," Findegil said, "Lord Belecthor does not speak with the same authority as the king."

The members of the council looked to their head, whose eyes were closed in aggravated thought. "I will write to Gimilkhor directly following this meeting," Eldarion said.

Duinhir, Trade Administrator of the Reunited Kingdom leaned forward in his seat. "In the meantime, my king, I think we should make a show of strength." He made eye contact with General Ostoher, Master of Gondor's Military Forces, who nodded. "I have no doubt in my mind that Gimilkhor is involved in the stirring of these rebels."

"Agreed," Ostoher said in a deep voice. "If Gimilkhor was ruling Umbar with fidelity based on the crown's policy, these rebels would not be so organized. I suspect that he is backing the rebellion. The letter that he sent to the king was an act of cowardice, attempting to wash his hands of his actions. We need to make a statement."

"King Eldarion has not been on the throne for a full year yet," Findegil said. "What message does it send if the peace is broken so soon?"

"The king is not the one who is breaking the peace," Duinhir snapped.

"If the crown doesn't act, it will show the Reunited Kingdom that rebellion will be tolerated," Ostoher put in.

"If I may, my king," Belecthor began.

"For goodness' sake," Ostoher slammed his hand down on the table. "Say what you have to say, Belecthor. We are in the midst of a crisis, so dispose of your mincing."

Belecthor's green eyes gleamed with annoyance, but his tone remained even. "We need to bring Lord Gimilkhor to Minas Tirith."

"And put the king in danger?" Beregond asked.

"Gimilkhor would be a fool to attempt anything within the walls of this city," Belecthor continued. "If he shows loyalty and deference to the king on a wide scale, it could take the wind out of the rebels' sails."

"Or it could appear that Gimilkhor is our hostage," Beregond argued, "Which will make them hate the crown even more. You aren't the only lord who is loved by their people."

Eldarion stood, and the councilors were quieted. "I will write to Gimilkhor. I will ask him how he plans to deal with the insurrection. We may learn more about his intentions and his involvement by his actions. If his plan of action proves to be insufficient, I will invite him to Minas Tirith. That is my final word on the subject." He did his best to project the rigid, icy countenance of Melian, but he felt he just came off as annoyed.

"My king," the councilors bowed, leaving the room one after another until only Beregond and Belecthor remained with the king.

"I am truly sorry, my king," Belecthor said. "I should have done more to be proactive about Gimilkhor."

Eldarion placed a hand on his shoulder. "It isn't your fault, Belecthor. I do believe that Gimilkhor is a part of this, and he took advantage of my absence from Gondor to stir up a rebellion. And you did attempt to be proactive when you brought your peace offering to Umbar. I do not hold you responsible for their actions."

"And by all accounts," Beregond said, "You did an excellent job holding down the fort in Minas Tirith."

Belecthor smiled, and it seemed that he appeared lighter. "I can't imagine you heard that from Firiel."

Beregond laughed. "She might have mentioned it a few times."

"I think that Beregond and Firiel are quite well-matched," Eldarion said, looking directly at Belecthor.

Belecthor looked from Eldarion to Beregond. "I am pleased to think of my sister being bonded with the crown's most loyal servant (who also happens to be the grandson of a hero of the War of the Ring)."

"I am pleased that you approve," Beregond said.

"Well, I must go and write to the wayward Lord of Umbar," Eldarion said. "Perhaps the two of you can catch up on your experiences over the past few weeks while I do."

Belecthor and Beregond sat across the council table, quickly engrossed in conversation. Eldarion looked at them fondly before exiting the chamber.

* * *

That evening, Lady Vardiel of Annuminas was taking her dinner alone in her chambers. She ate on a beautiful, marble balcony which looked far eastward. She gazed out at the stars as she took her meal in silence.

From within, there was a knock on the door. Vardiel rose to walk through the central chamber and open the door on the western wall. There in the torch-lit corridor was the king himself.

"I hope you find your room to your liking," Eldarion said.

"Very much so," Vardiel said, gesturing for him to enter and leading him out to the balcony. "Your staff is very kind as well."

"They told me you were eating alone, and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Oh, I'm quite well," Vardiel said. "I just need a bit of time to get my bearings."

Eldarion frowned. "If you want me to go, I won't disturb your peace."

"No, you're most welcome to join me," Vardiel said. "I must say, the mutton is quite good here."

"All of the food is good here," Eldarion said. "I'm very lucky in that regard."

"This balcony is fantastic," Vardiel said. "I didn't have one in Annuminas."

"It gets a bit cold for balconies in Arnor," Eldarion said. "But this is a nice one."

"It's still cold here," Vardiel said, "But it makes me feel at home."

Eldarion gestured around him. "My father told me that Gandalf or Mithrandir or whatever you prefer to call him would stay in this chamber when he came to visit Minas Tirith. It is where he was lodged before the Battle of the Pelennor Fields."

Vardiel looked down at the frozen Pelennor. The starlight shone off of the frigid ground. As she turned her gaze westward, the towers of Osgiliath sparkled in the distance, and further still, she could see the peaks of the Ephel Duath.

"That's the border of Mordor, isn't it?"

"It is," Eldarion replied. "This city existed in the shadow of Mordor for thousands of years. Now that the Dark Lord is no more, you can see the stars shining even on the borders of that place."

"My father told me about the orcs and trolls and wargs and other foul creatures of the enemy that he fought," Vardiel said, "but he said that the most frightening enemies in the war were the men he faced. How all of those men of Harad, Rhun, Umbar, and Khand could willingly serve the greatest evil of our time baffled him. It reminded him never to forget the darkness in men's hearts. That's why he named me for Varda, Queen of the Stars, so that even in the darkness, I would shine bright."

"Radanir named you most aptly," Eldarion said. "I'm sorry to tell you that we are in darkness. There is a rebellion against the throne growing in Umbar."

"That's why your councilors whisked you away as soon as we arrived?"

"Indeed," he said. "I was hoping to be able to show off the wonders of Gondor to you, but it seems as though I may be unable."

Vardiel frowned. "How can I help?"

Eldarion turned from where he was standing to face her completely. "Help?"

"I was your sister's right-hand woman in Arnor. Give me a job. Let me help you through this crisis."

"Is there anything you would be interested in doing?" Eldarion asked.

Vardiel furrowed her brow. "I've always been good at negotiating."

Eldarion was eager for the help and glad for an opportunity to spend more time with Vardiel. "Then I have a job we can work on right now. Follow me."

He quickly strode back to the corridor, and Vardiel followed.

"I think that this draft is much improved," Vardiel said, pulling the parchment from Eldarion's desk. The two sat in the king's chamber surrounded by candles. "The language is much more direct, and your tone remains diplomatic with an undercurrent of authority. Gimilkhor will have to show his hand in his response one way or another."

"Thank you for helping me," Eldarion said. "My first letter was a mess. I was so frustrated after the council meeting. I blamed myself for coming north. I should have been here."

"It's important for a king to be a man as well," Vardiel said. "You had a wonderful time in Arnor. Could you ever regret meeting other descendants of the Fellowship?"

Eldarion looked pointedly at Vardiel. "I don't regret meeting anyone in Arnor."

Vardiel dismissed the comment with a wave. "This was King Elessar's desk too, wasn't it?"

"It was," Eldarion said. "It's where I found his collection of letters. I was reading one of the last ones before I went to see you."

"Care to share?" Vardiel asked.

"Certainly," Eldarion said. He opened the wooden box where he kept the letters and began to read.

_27 December, 1483_

_Great Smials, Tuckborough_

_Dear Strider,_

_ Congratulations on the big announcement! Melian and Eradan sent me a letter a few days ago telling me that you are going to be a grandfather! It makes sense, since you must be nearly 400 years old by now. _

_ I am writing with a rather lofty request, but I want you to understand why I am asking. As you know, Diamond passed away a few years ago now, and Estella, Merry's wife, is gone as well. With Sam going west, the Shire is not the same. Merry and I are both getting on in years, and we've decided that we want one last adventure. Merry received a letter from Eomer, and he wants us to come and stay in Edoras. I don't believe he is well, and we are leaving once it is warm enough to travel._

_ I do not plan to return to the Shire. Neither does Merry. We were wondering if we could come and stay with you in Minas Tirith. We don't want to impose, but it is time to let the younger hobbits lead. We want to spend times with old friends, good pipeweed (which we promise to bring if you say yes), and a warm hearth for songs and stories. _

_ The last time we saw Minas Tirith, it was when you were crowned king. I can only imagine how much better it all looks now. I want to see the places that I fought to protect before I die. The Shire is safe and beautiful, and if I can see that Rohan and Gondor are the same, I can face the end as a contented hobbit. _

_ Write back soon so we can make our plans._

_Your friend,_

_Pippin_

"Merry and Pippin did come here for about seven years. They died about fifty years before Father did. They were like uncles to me."

"You're very lucky," Vardiel said. "Many of the Dunedain that my father was close to, Halbarad, Golodir, Calenglad… they all perished in the war."

Eldarion recognized the names from some of his father's old stories. "They live on because we remember them."

"What a lovely thought," Vardiel said. "I'm inclined to agree with you."

"It's nice to have someone here who understands," Eldarion said.

"Indeed," Vardiel said, meeting the king's gaze with her own.

Another moment passed between Eldarion and Vardiel.

"It's getting late," Eldarion said. "And tomorrow will be a busy day. In addition to the Umbar crisis, I will need to get caught up on everything that I missed while I was away. Lord Belecthor will show you Minas Tirith."

"That will be entertaining," Vardiel said.

"No doubt," Eldarion replied. "But for now, I should bid you good night."

"Goodnight, Eldarion," Vardiel replied, placing her hand on his as she said it before rising and returning to her quarters.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading the latest chapter of _Dear Strider_. If you enjoyed it, please follow, favorite, and review!


	13. The King's Armory and G

Dear Strider, Chapter Thirteen

The growing unrest in Umbar has reached a fever pitch. Lord Gimilkhor comes to Minas Tirith to aid Eldarion with the crisis, but Eldarion and his allies question the sincerity of Umbar's lord. Eldarion finds a letter to Aragorn from long ago.

Author's Note: I apologize for how long it took me to complete this chapter. Due to some health problems in my family, I have been spending a lot of time in and out of the hospital and running errands, so even when I have had time at my desk, it has been difficult to focus. That being said, thank you for all who have written such kind reviews of this story. There are three chapters to go after this one, and I have some big things planned for them. Thank you, as always, for reading, and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

* * *

Eldarion stood with Beregond and Ohtar on the Quays of Harlond surrounded by Citadel Guards. It was February, and Gondor was still held in the grip of winter.

"So much could have been avoided if he had agreed to this a month ago," Beregond said, watching a black ship with a tall mast come into port.

"We should have followed General Ostoher's advice and sent troops to secure the island," Ohtar said.

"Conjecture is not helpful at this stage," Eldarion said. "We need to work with Gimilkhor to end this rebellion once and for all."

The Umbaran rebels, or the Sons of the Corsairs, as they had named themselves, had become the most powerful force in Umbar. They swelled their ranks daily using their message of Umbaran independence from a Reunited Kingdom that hated and scorned them. Gimilkhor wrote to Eldarion that he was powerless to stop them, and he finally decided to come to Minas Tirith.

Gimilkhor's ship docked, and the tall, dark-haired man disembarked flanked by two well-armored guards. A richly dressed woman walked behind him, and Eldarion had to assume that she was his wife. She was followed by a number of Gimilkhor's counselors and household staff.

"My king," the Lord of Umbar said in his deep voice, his dark, cold eyes fixed on Eldarion. "I apologize that we are not meeting under better circumstances. The situation in my city has gone far beyond my control."

"Welcome, Lord Gimilkhor," Eldarion said. "It is my hope that with our collaboration, we can restore order in Umbar. Until then, you and your companions will be well-lodged in the Sixth Circle of Minas Tirith."

Gimilkhor's eyes darkened. "My king, wouldn't it be more convenient for both of us if we were lodged in the Citadel?"

"We don't want the Sons of the Corsairs to think that you are a hostage," Eldarion said. "For all of our sake, you must be independent while you are here."

Gimilkhor shared a significant look with his wife. "We thank you."

"There are covered wagons prepared to take us across the Pelennor," Beregond said.

Gimilkhor nodded, and he and his wife climbed onto one with some of their people.

"I will ride with them," Ohtar said to Eldarion. "We need to make sure that they aren't up to something."

"Very well," Eldarion said, "But be sure to use a soft touch."

Ohtar followed the Umbarans into the wagon, sitting on the seat directly across from Gimilkhor, who regarded the young man with a sort of disdainful amusement. "You're the nephew, aren't you?"

"I am," Ohtar said firmly as the wagon driver began their journey.

"I thought you stayed up north with your mother the regent."

"I am staying in Minas Tirith with my uncle for a time," Ohtar replied.

Gimilkhor laughed grimly. "Cast out? I know a thing or two about that."

Ohtar's instinctive response was to fire back, but he remembered Eldarion's advice. "I am truly sorry that you are in the predicament that you're in, and if there is any help that I can offer-"

"Save your manners, boy," Gimilkhor spat. "You're not sorry, and you have no interest in offering me help."

Ohtar summoned up some of his mother's stern countenance and met Gimilkhor's eye with regal poise. "If I make a statement, I mean what I said. I don't know how the Lords of Gondor operate, but in Arnor, we speak plainly."

Gimilkhor raised his eyebrows and looked to his wife and his counselors. "This one has a spine. A Dunedain of Arnor through and through."

Surprisingly, Ohtar found himself filled with pride at the comment. "The blood of Numenor tells."

Gimilkhor smiled, not a pleasant smile, but it was preferable to his scowling. "Don't I know it? The blood of Numenor flows more strongly in Umbar than in the rest of Gondor."

"Not the blood of Elendil and his Faithful."

"It's the same blood," Gimilkhor smirked. "It's humorous, really. Arnor and Gondor were both founded on rebellion. Elendil and his sons refused to comply with the will of the king, and they fled the destruction of our homeland."

Ohtar narrowed his eyes. "Elendil and his sons were resisting the will of Sauron. They were right to rebel."

"They resisted, yes, but how did that work for them?" Gimilkhor laughed. "Anarion fell during the wars of the Last Alliance. Elendil fell at the hand of Sauron himself. And as for Isildur, he was the greatest failure of all of them."

"Isildur was a hero," Ohtar said. "He cut the ring from Sauron's hand. My mother named me for Ohtar, Herald of Isildur, so that I would be reminded to herald the end of all darkness." The Umbarans laughed. "Isildur took Sauron out of the game for a while, yes, but he did return. No one can truly vanquish darkness itself. Not Elendil, not Isildur, not even your grandfather."

That comment stung. "At least my grandfather wasn't a thrall to the Dark Lord."

Gimilkhor narrowed his eyes. "My grandfather was not a thrall. The Witch-King assured him that, when Gondor was conquered, the Corsairs of Umbar would be left alone. Not summoned to councils to hear whatever defamatory nonsense the lore-masters have slapped together."

"Enough, Gimilkhor," the Lady of Umbar said, patting her husband's arm while glaring at Ohtar.

The remainder of the ride to Minas Tirith was silent.

* * *

When the Umbarans had been settled into their spacious, comfortable lodgings in the Sixth Circle of Minas Tirith, a special session of the king's council was called which included Lord Gimilkhor.

Gimilkhor sat directly across the table from Eldarion, eyes fixed on the king. Duinhir and General Ostoher sat closest to Gimilkhor, glaring openly at him. Belecthor was having a very involved conversation with Findegil. Eldarion met Gimilkhor's gaze, and Beregond, unnoticed by the Lord of Umbar, stared in his direction, unafraid.

"I suppose we should address the mumak in the room," Eldarion said, turning all eyes towards him. "I want to take this opportunity to personally welcome Lord Gimilkhor of Umbar to our table as he has kindly joined us to aid in ending our current crisis."

"A crisis that might have been prevented if Lord Gimilkhor had joined us a month ago," Ostoher spat.

Duinhir looked venomously at Gimilkhor and nodded.

Gimilkhor smiled contemptuously. "I'm here now. So are we going to find a solution, or are we going to trade insults? Because I don't think an armchair general and a glorified accountant are in any position to insult me."

"This council will remain civil," Beregond said firmly, staring pointedly at the three men at the end of the table.

Ostoher and Duinhir were visibly cowed by the king's steward. Gimilkhor smirked.

"Now," Eldarion began with authority, "Lord Gimilkhor, you will kindly tell the council all that you know of the Sons of the Corsairs."

The council members turned their attention to the foot of the table.

"The Sons of the Corsairs have been sowing the seeds of dissent throughout Umbar since October," Gimilkhor said. "They are frustrated by the lack of respect that they perceive Umbar receives from the rest of the Reunited Kingdom, and they desire to be an independent state like Harad or Rhun. They started as a group of like-minded men in an inn, and word of mouth has caused them to grow into something more formidable. By the time I was fully aware of this situation, they had grown too strong and persuasive to act without causing more people to join their cause."

"You should have made public examples of them," General Ostoher snapped. "That would have crushed dissent. Where there's a whip, there's a way."

"I'm not saying I disagree with your sentiment, General," Gimilkhor smirked. "I am saying that it would have inflamed the rebellion by making martyrs of citizens. And my wife and I do value our lives."

The door at the end of the room burst open, and a guard scurried in with a sealed parchment. The councilors looked at him with raised eyebrows: Meetings of the king's council were meant to be quite secure. "My king, this just arrived for you. I am told to tell you it is urgent."

"Thank you," Eldarion said, taking the scroll and dismissing the guard. He deftly broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. All watched him intently for his reaction. The king went very pale and raised his eyes to Gimilkhor, who fixed him with an annoyed, impatient look.

Eldarion held the missive aloft and began to read.

_To the King:_

_ We have taken Pelargir. The wastrels Lord Belecthor and Lady Firiel were foolish to leave their city so undefended as they revel and relax in Minas Tirith, and their arrogance and complacency made it a very simple operation. We have harmed no civilians._

_ If you want your city back, here are our demands: Umbar is to be given independence from the so-called Reunited Kingdom. All taxation of our people will cease and no man of Gondor or Arnor will come within, by land or by sea, twenty leagues of Umbar. _

_ The Corsairs of Umbar will never be ruled by lesser men again._

Belecthor rose from his seat and turned fiercely toward Gimilkhor. "Villain!" he cried, pointing his right index finger at the Lord of Umbar. "You planned this, didn't you? You are behind this rebellion and this invasion. Never mind the shaming of my sister and myself."

Gimilkhor suppressed a smirk and leaned back in his seat. "I have no involvement with the Sons of the Corsairs. I'm sorry that your city was not adequately defended."

Ostoher rose as well. "My king, you cannot negotiate with these terrorists, especially in the first year of your reign. I move that we go to battle with these Sons of the Corsairs and put a definitive end to any resistance."

"If your advisors have finished their blustering," Gimilkhor drawled, "I propose that I return to Umbar."

"Running from a fight?" Ostoher snarled. "Or removing yourself to deny involvement?"

"If I can reinstate the rule of law in Umbar, the Sons of the Corsairs won't have a base," Gimilkhor said. "When they are plucked from Belecthor's keep, they can be brought back to Umbar in chains, where they will live out their days as prisoners under my own keep."

"And how do we know that this agreement will be maintained?" Beregond asked.

"We send troops to garrison Umbar, as I have been suggesting for years," Ostoher declared.

Gimilkhor rounded on Ostoher. "Are you doubting my loyalty?"

Ostoher remained resolute. "Until you solve this crisis that you allowed to take root in your city, your loyalty will be in doubt."

Eldarion raised a hand and the table fell silent. "Gentlemen, we will deal with managing the rebels after we free Pelargir from their grip. This is the time for action, not argument. I will ride for Pelargir in two days. Gimilkhor will secure Umbar to cut the rebels off from any support. Send word to Prince Elboron in Ithilien and Prince Adrahil in Dol Amroth, in case they wish to contribute troops. I will need to meet with Beregond, Belecthor, and Ostoher to plan our strategy."

"My king," Gimilkhor interjected, "Should I not be included in these talks?"

Eldarion frowned. "You need to focus on your own strategy for securing your own city. You know it better than any of us, and we will be best served if your full attention is focused on that." Then, making eye contact with each man present, "This discussion is over. It is time to end this rebellion and restore peace in our kingdom."

"Hear, hear," Belecthor declared, rising and nodding to the rest of the council, who all gave similar signs of affirmation to the king.

* * *

Much later, Eldarion stood over a map table in his study. The plan had been decided that Eldarion and the ground troops would march directly for the entrance to Pelargir while Ostoher would command Gondor's naval forces to cut off any escape the rebels may attempt to make from the ports in the city.

A knock was heard at the door, and Eldarion bid the knocker to enter, revealing Ohtar.

"Uncle Eldarion, I wish to be a part of the Reclaiming of Pelargir," Ohtar declared without preamble.

"Melian would not be pleased if I put you in harm's way," Eldarion said.

Ohtar crossed his arms, "And I would be ashamed not to be helpful in some way."

Eldarion walked behind his desk and seated himself. "How would you propose to help then?"

"Let me go to Umbar with Lord Gimilkhor," he said. "I've thought it out. If I help him to restore the rule of law in his city, then, as your nephew, it shows everyone that the Lord of Umbar and the crown are well-coordinated."

"Are you sure this has nothing to do with your fascination with ancient enemies?" Eldarion asked. "Because if that is your intention, you need to be clear with me."

Ohtar set his jaw. "I make no secret of my fascination with knowledge of our ancient enemies, but Umbar is not an enemy. The rebels are the enemy. Gimilkhor wants peace and prosperity for his people just like us. He is disgruntled, but this is an opportunity for the Reunited Kingdom to turn over a new leaf when it comes to Umbar. I am offering my service for the good of the crown, not for my own interests."

Eldarion relaxed in his seat. "I apologize, Ohtar. I didn't mean to seem like I was accusing you. I know your loyalty, and it is appreciated. You may go with Gimilkhor, if he allows you to do so, but be careful of him. I do not trust him, and you would do well to remain somewhat wary in his company."

"Thank you, Uncle," Ohtar said, bowing and leaving the chamber.

* * *

The next day, word came to Minas Tirith from Elboron and Adrahil that they would aid the crown in liberating Pelargir from the Sons of the Corsairs. Their forces were to join with the main force in Lebennin within sight of the city. General Ostoher gave orders for the soldiers of Gondor to be prepared to march at sunrise.

Gimilkhor and his delegation rode for Osgiliath, where they would sail down the Anduin in secret. He allowed for the company of Ohtar, who was in turn accompanied by a number of Gondorian knights.

That night, after dinner with Ostoher and the other officers who would ride to Pelargir with him, Eldarion called for Beregond and Vardiel to join him in the king's armory as he made his own preparations to march.

"Once our relationships with the Easterlings became peaceful, my father stopped wearing Anduril at his side at court functions," Eldarion explained. "His gear of war was kept in this armory. This is the first time I have been here since he died."

"So that is it?" Vardiel asked. "The most famous sword in Middle-Earth?"

Eldarion removed Anduril from where it hung on the wall and reverently held it flat across his hands. "This is Anduril. Forged from the shards of Narsil, the blade of Elendil that Isildur used to cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand."

Anduril was both long and heavy. In his younger days, Eldarion had trained with broadswords, even serving in some of his father's final campaigns when he was in his twenties, but he felt unprepared for a weapon with the physical and historical weight of the sword of kings. Using both hands, he placed the sword on a marble counter.

"Your father's armor should fit you," Beregond said. "You are similar in stature and size."

There was a large chest in the corner of the room, and Eldarion walked over to open it, revealing a weathered cloak of grey cloth.

"I don't think I ever saw him wear this," Eldarion said. "Beregond, you served him for a number of years. Do you recognize this cloak?"

"Yes," Beregond said. "It is a cloak from your great-grandmother's people in Caras Galadhon."

"An elven cloak!" Vardiel exclaimed.

Eldarion lifted the cloak out of the chest and wrapped it around his shoulders. There was a small, wooden box inside of the chest (not unlike the one where he found his father's letters in his desk). He opened it up to find a green brooch in the shape of a leaf that he could only assume was meant to pin the cloak together.

As he felt the cloak, Eldarion found a breast pocket on the inside of the right of the cloak. He reached into it to find a brittle piece of parchment folded in four. He held it up to Vardiel and Beregond.

"Another letter, perhaps?" Vardiel asked.

"Let's see," Eldarion replied. He placed the parchment next to Anduril and ever-so-gently unfolded it.

It was letter, much older and more weathered than those from his father's desk, but Eldarion could still make out the text.

_7 September, 2957_

_Rivendell_

_Dear Aragorn,_

_ I am sorry to have missed you. I was passing through on my way across the Misty Mountains, and Elrond said that you were ranging with Elladan and Elrohir in the Trollshaws. Elrond informed me of your intention to travel Middle-Earth in pursuit of noble deeds. He and your mother are hesitant to allow you to leave Imladris, but I brought them around to your point of view (no need to thank me). _

_ I know that you have wandered before now (which is how we met in the first place), but your travels will be about more than wandering. There is a wide world at your doorstep. You have much to learn of the many peoples of Middle-Earth and their struggles, and I can think of no better way for you to prepare yourself for kingship than to live amongst those whom you will someday rule. Ruling is not about giving orders and having your own will enacted. It requires empathy, compassion, and a keen sense of what is right and wrong. _

_ The lands of Gondor and Rohan will welcome you, no doubt, but I encourage you to look beyond them. Go to Dunland. Go to Harad. Go to Rhun. You will encounter many men who have lived in the shadow of Sauron all their lives. I encourage you to try to understand them and their ways. I do not doubt that you will battle men of Harad and Rhun someday, for the Enemy is crafty, and the Men of the East have too often fallen under his yoke. _

_ War is an unpleasant reality of our world. It has been since the creation of the world. It is necessary that we should fight to defend the world from Sauron and all of his works, do not take delight in battle, killing, and slaughter, especially of your fellow men. I do not expect you to understand this now, but someday, you will understand. _

_ In all things that you do, be valiant, be steadfast, and be compassionate. _

_ Until we meet again._

"Who was it from?" Beregond asked.

"There's only a symbol. It looks like a "G" rune," Eldarion said.

"Galadriel?" Vardiel asked.

"Maybe, but it didn't sound very Elvish," Eldarion said.

"Gimli?" Beregond asked.

Eldarion looked at the date. "My father didn't meet Gimli for at least another fifty years." He looked from Anduril, blade gleaming in the torchlight, to the green brooch. "I think it must have been from Gandalf, or Mithrandir as he was always called here."

"I think he gave King Elessar good advice," Vardiel said. "Be valiant, be steadfast, be compassionate."

"Your father was all of those things," Beregond said.

Eldarion leaned on the marble counter, eyeing Anduril and feeling the pressure of what was about to happen mounting. He wishes (and not for the last time) that he was a ranger in the wild or a farmer in a field and not a king leading men into battle.

Vardiel stepped forward, placing a supportive hand on the king's shoulder. "You will be all of those things too, Eldarion. The people are with you, and so are we."

Eldarion looked at Beregond, who smiled and nodded.

"I suppose I should try to sleep," Eldarion said. "I won't, but I should try to rest before we ride at dawn."

"As should we all," Beregond said.

The trio exited the king's armory.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this latest chapter! If you enjoyed it, please follow, favorite, and review.


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